Delusions
by ShadowEidolon
Summary: When Robin attempts to commit suicide, but retains no memory of it afterwards, Raven and Robin must enter his mind to find the cause. Robin/Raven.
1. Interrogation

Beast Boy blamed the hair gel. Of all the hairstyles in all the world, Robin just had to choose the one that defied gravity. Usually, this meant ten minutes of hairstyling in the Tower's only bathroom. A bathroom that Beast Boy desperately needed to use.

Beast Boy waddled back and forth in front of the bathroom door, trying to think about anything except running water. He HAD to take that stupid bet with Cyborg about who could drink the most Slushees in ten minutes. How was he to know that Cyborg's stomach could contain ten gallons of extra material? Beast Boy pounded on the bathroom door.

"Robin, hurry up!" he called through the door. If Robin heard him, he didn't respond. Beast Boy bit his lip. Eight 20-oz Slushees. A huge mistake. Beast Boy paced back and forth, trying to turn his attention away from Slushees or any other type of liquid.

Another two minutes passed. Beast Boy pounded on the door again. "Dude, I really need to go! Finish up!" Robin still ignored him. Another minute passed. Beast Boy felt like he was going to burst if he had to wait any longer. Beast Boy shoved against the door, eyes watering from an intense need to use the toilet. The door seemed jammed, barely budging an inch even when Beast Boy put all his strength into it. "Dude, open the-" Beast Boy's pleading was cut off as the door suddenly swung open, causing Beast Boy to fall face-first into the bathroom tiles.

The first thing Beast Boy noticed was the red. He could have sworn that the bathroom tiles were white, but it appeared that the tiles had suddenly decided they weren't satisfied with their current color and had shifted hues. It took Beast Boy's brain a few seconds to realize the floor was wet. Carefully, he scraped his finger along the bathroom tiles. Lifting his finger to examine it, Beast Boy realized that his usually green skin had been covered in the red, sticky liquid. Finally, Beast Boy's brain realized two plus two equaled four.

The floor was slick with blood.

"Oh crap!" Beast Boy exclaimed, jumping to his feet and staggering backwards. "Oh crap, oh crap, oh cra-"

Beast Boy stumbled and landed on his back in the pool of blood. Glancing up to see what he had tripped over, Beast Boy realized what had been blocking the door. Robin lay unconscious on the bloodstained tiles, head against the doorframe, his costume splashed with crimson. Blood leaked from a deep gash in his throat, dripping into the grotesque pool surrounding him. In his hand, he held one of his signature bird-a-rangs, the blade hidden in crusting blood. Beast Boy fought the urge to vomit. Scrambling to his feet, Beast Boy seized Robin's shoulders and shook him vigorously.

"Wake up, dude!" he pleaded. "Just wake up!"

Robin's head flopped down onto his shoulder, allowing a spurt of blood to splash Beast Boy's face. Beast Boy released in Robin in horror, and scrambled down the hallway.

"Raven! Cyborg! Anybody!" he yelled, frantically trying to wipe the blood from his face. "Someone, please! Robin's hurt!"

* * *

Robin found himself bound to a steel chair. His wrists were strapped to the armrests by leather bands, his ankles shackled to the legs of the chair. The room was lit only by the dim glow of medical readouts. Struggling against his bonds, Robin immediately began running the possibilities through his head. Kidnapped? No, this was clearly a room in the Tower. Amnesia? Possible. Beast Boy pulling a childish prank? Very likely. Surveying the room, Robin noticed one of his bird-a-rangs sitting on a nearby forensics table, the desk lamp pointed directly towards it.

_Strange_, Robin thought. From this angle, the blade appeared caked with some type of material. Rust? No, one side of the bird-a-rang was still pristine.

"Looks like you woke up."

Robin's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden voice. Searching the room, Robin spotted Raven monitoring one of the readouts on a nearby computer. In the darkness, she had been almost invisible. Raven turned to face him, her face hidden due to the darkness of the room and the shadow of her hood.

"Fortunately, you're going to live," she reported calmly. "Not due to lack of trying, however. The blade had cut a full two inches into your throat."

Robin stared at her, confused. "Blade?"

"It took a good deal of magic to heal," she continued, returning her attention to the medical readout. "Apparently you knew what you were doing."

"Know what I was-? Hold on a second," Robin said, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

Raven turned back towards Robin. "Don't try to play dumb. Beast Boy found you in the bathroom. Cyborg checked forensics on the blade and a DNA test on the blood. There weren't any fingerprints, due to your gloves, but the blood was definitely yours, and the blade was in your hand."

"Blood?" Robin muttered, glancing down at himself. Immediately he felt a sharp stab of pain from his throat, causing him to jerk his head backwards. Carefully, he tilted his head so he could see the front of his shirt. Due to the darkness, he couldn't make out much detail, but he did see the front of his uniform had darkened, as if he had been splashed by a bucket of water. Turning his head back towards Raven, Robin noted that his shirtsleeve seemed to have been dyed a deep red.

"Was I attacked?" Robin asked, struggling to remember. "Who attacked me? And why am I strapped down?"

"Starfire's in hysterics. She wasn't allowed in here in case she accidentally-" Raven suddenly stopped talking. She gazed towards Robin. "What did you say?" she asked carefully.

"Who attacked me?" Robin demanded. "Why am I strapped to this chair? What happened?"

Raven walked slowly towards Robin, stopping a few feet short of the chair in which he was strapped. A pale glow from the nearby LED screens cast a dim light upon her face, causing her skin to look almost ghostly white. She looked perplexed, as if Robin had just admitted to being a space alien.

"Robin, what exactly do you remember happening before you woke up here?" Raven asked quietly, studying Robin's face carefully.

Robin frowned, concentrating. "We… we had the meeting, I remember that."

Raven nodded. The meeting had taken place about twenty minutes before the incident. Robin had tried to convince the team to add a new addition to the training course. Cyborg had been reluctant to rebuild, knowing he would been assigned most of the construction, and Beast Boy had fallen asleep halfway through the debate. The meeting had been postponed after Beast Boy had morphed into a bear during his nap, crushing the sofa under his weight. After that, the Titans had returned to their normal activities.

"What happened afterwards?" Raven prompted.

Robin bit his lip, trying to focus. "I…I headed back to my room to grab some equipment for the afternoon training session. I sat down on my bed to adjust the setting on one of my sonic disks and…" Robin paused, searching his memories. "Nothing. I guess I fell asleep."

Raven approached Robin, pulling down her hood. Crouching next to him, she studied his face with a look of concern. "You're not lying," she realized with astonishment.

"Of course I'm not lying!" Robin protested, struggling against his bonds. "Why would I?"

Raven stared at him, a worried look on her face. "Robin," she explained carefully, "You slashed your own throat. We found you bleeding to death in the bathroom. You had tried to commit suicide."

Robin stared back at her. He looked like he had just been hit by a truck. "Suicide?" he managed.

Raven nodded. "We strapped you down for your own protection. We thought you'd be a threat to yourself."

Robin looked stunned. He glanced down at himself, ignoring the searing pains from his neck. Even in the darkness, he could now make out the bloodstains across his chest. He looked at Raven with a mix of confusion and panic.

"What happened?" he muttered, more to himself than to Raven.

Before Raven could respond, the door to the medical bay flew open, throwing a harsh beam of light across the room. Cyborg walked in, staring down at the clipboard in his hand.

"His stress levels seem normal, I can't tell what caused-" Cyborg stopped his report, looking up at the now conscious Robin.

"Cyborg," Robin sighed, relieved. "Do you have any idea-"

Robin was interrupted when a fist slammed into the side of his head with the force of a freight train. The chair toppled backwards, slamming Robin against the ground. Cyborg loomed over him, shaking with fury.

"What were you thinking?!" Cyborg shouted, glaring down at the fallen Robin. "Did you think for a second what would happen to the team if you just gave up like that? Why would you do this to yourself?"

Raven quickly stepped between Cyborg and Robin, keeping Cyborg from landing another blow.

"Cyborg, don't touch him," she warned.

Cyborg glowered down at her. "Why are you defending him? Don't you remember what he almost did?" he snarled.

Raven shook her head. "He doesn't remember trying to kill himself. I don't think it's his fault."

Cyborg looked at her, confused. "Doesn't remember?"

"I don't think he intentionally tried to kill himself, at least not consciously."

Raven explained to Cyborg Robin's lack of memories surrounding recent events. Slowly, Cyborg's rage faded into confusion.

"Sorry, man," Cyborg apologized, lifting Robin's seat back into the upright position. "I didn't know about...you know."

Robin nodded, attempting to look at his bruising cheek. "Understandable. I probably would have done something similar if we'd switched positions. Nasty right hook you have there, though."

Cyborg shrugged, embarrassed. "So you really don't have any memories about your suicide attempt?" he asked, bewildered.

Robin frowned. "Only up to a few minutes beforehand. Nothing after that, though. I was hoping you would find something on your medical charts."

Cyborg glanced down at his clipboard. "Nothing," he muttered. "Stress levels seem normal. Well, for you. No sign of any kind of mental disease. The only thing I can think of is that you're going into a relapse with your Slade problem."

Robin flinched, remembering his previous encounter with his hallucinogen-induced vision. The chemicals in Slade's mask had triggered a psychological reaction in Robin, causing him to see visions of Slade whenever his surroundings were dark enough.

"I don't think so. When I woke up, the lights were off. I would have seen Slade," Robin pointed out.

Cyborg tossed his clipboard aside. "Then I'm out of ideas," he sighed, exasperated.

Robin struggled against his bonds. "Can you unstrap me? I think I'll be fine for now."

Cyborg reached forward to undo the bonds, but Raven held out a hand to stop him.

"Just let me try something," she explained. "Now that he's conscious, I can try to look into his mind, check for any traces of Slade."

Robin nodded. "Worth a shot, I guess. It worked last time."

Raven extended her arm, pressing two fingers against his forehead. "Clear your mind," she instructed, closing her eyes. "Focus on nothing except for my voice."

Robin closed his eyes, complying with Raven's instructions. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a dull white glow emitted from Raven's fingers, adding a bit of light to the shadowy room. After a few seconds, the light faded, and Raven opened her eyes.

"Nothing," she sighed. "It doesn't look like there's-"

Suddenly, Raven was thrown backwards, as if she had been rammed by car. She flew backwards several yards, crashing straight into the Tower's wall with a sickening crack. Both Raven and Robin screamed in pain. Raven crumpled to the ground. Robin went limp, head drooping forwards onto his chest.

"Rae!" Cyborg shouted, sprinting over to where Raven lay. With Cyborg's assistance, Raven rose unsteadily to her feet.

"I'm fine," she muttered. Trying to take a step, Raven almost collapsed. Cyborg caught her before she hit the ground.

"Sure you are," Cyborg replied sarcastically, leading her to an unoccupied chair nearby.

Nearby, Robin slowly pulled his head up. "Wha…what happened?"

Cyborg shook his head in disgust. "Man, whatever goes on in that head of yours, I don't want to have any part of it."

Raven shook her head, sagging into the chair. "That wasn't Robin that caused it. When I tried to push into Robin's mind, something else pushed back."

Robin frowned, still shaky from the sudden jab of pain. "Is something else in there?"

Raven sighed. "I don't know. Whatever is in there, it added a mental shield, in addition to Robin's above-average mental defenses. There isn't a way to find what's wrong from the outside."

The room was silent for a minute. Then Robin looked up. "What about from the inside?" he suggested.

Raven looked up, startled. "What?"

Robin gestured towards Cyborg with his head. "Cyborg told me that you-"

Robin was cut off by a series of frantic "shut up" gestures from a panicking Cyborg. Raven turned and glared at Cyborg.

"What did Cyborg tell you, exactly?" Raven inquired, her voice dripping with venom.

"Um, I might of, accidentally, told Robin," Cyborg stammered, "that, uh, you might have a magic, um, mirror that, uh, allowed Beast Boy and me to go into your mind. Accidentally."

Raven glared at him with enough hatred to melt most mortals. "Interesting," she said, her eyes almost glowing with rage. Cyborg looked at Robin pleadingly.

"Okay, so Cyborg told me," Robin admitted. "But can you enter _my _mind? You might be able to track the source of the disturbance."

Raven turned back towards Robin, running the scenario through her head. Cyborg made a mental note to get as far away from Raven as possible the next chance he got, or risk being blasted into a billion bits and pieces.

"It might be possible," Raven decided. "I'd need two factors to be changed, however."

"Name it," Robin said.

Raven held up one finger. "First, you'll need to come with me."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Cyborg protested. "Whatever's in Robin's head apparently wants him dead. Who knows what would happen if we put Robin's brain, which wants to kill him, INTO said brain?"

Raven sighed. "Unfortunately, it's not optional. To get past his mental defenses, Robin's mind needs a recognizable source. It won't recognize my brainwaves, so it will just keep me out. If Robin was with me, however, it would read his brainwaves over mine, allowing us to pass through."

Robin nodded. "That makes sense," he commented. "What's the second factor?"

Raven held up her second finger. "I'll need something personal. A name, a place, even just an idea. Anything that I don't know, but has an important meaning in your memories or thoughts."

Robin winced. "Any name?"

"Preferably yours," Raven admitted. "Otherwise, it might not have enough emotional resonance. There needs to be enough to temporarily reset your mental defenses."

Cyborg grinned, extending a miniature microphone from the tip of his index finger. "Come on, Boy Wonder," he goaded. "Tell us, who is the boy behind the mask? Your fans are just dying to find out."

Robin glared at him. "Dick," he muttered.

Cyborg stared at him, confused. "What did you just call me?"

"My name is Richard, but everyone calls me Dick," Robin explained reluctantly.

Slowly, the look on Cyborg's face shifted from confusion to a teasing grin. "Seriously?" he asked, astounded. "That's what your parents decided to name you?"

Robin glared at Cyborg just as hatefully as Raven had earlier. "If you DARE tell Beast Boy…" he threatened.

"If you two infants are finished," Raven interrupted, "Robin has a mind to repair."

"You might want to fix his name, while you're at it." Cyborg snickered.

Robin couldn't do much more than glare at Cyborg from his bonds, but if looks could kill, Cyborg would have been dead a thousand times over.

Raven sat down, cross-legged, and soon began to hover in the air. "Azarath Metrion ZINTHOS!" she shouted, shooting an orb of dark energy towards Robin. Robin instinctively braced himself for impact, but the orb passed through him as if he were made of mist. Two feet behind him, the orb froze, and then began to expand. By the time it had finished growing, it stretched from floor to ceiling, crackling with energy. Slowly, the center began to hollow, revealing a tunnel leading down through the floor, reaching far beyond anyone in the room could see. Robin once again attempted to free himself from the chair, struggling against the leather straps. He looked over at Cyborg.

"Would you mind?" he asked, gesturing towards his bonds. Cyborg started forward to free Robin, and then stopped himself, a wicked grin crawling across his face. Instead of loosening his bonds, Cyborg began to tilt the seat backwards, towards the portal.

"Cyborg?" Robin glanced behind him, suddenly realizing what Cyborg was planning. "Cyborg, don't even think about-"

Cyborg grabbed the legs of the chair, flipping it backwards into the portal. The chair tumbled downwards, carrying the still-imprisoned Robin with it.

"CYYYYYBOOOOOOOORRRRRG!" Robin's furious howl echoed off the cloudy sides of the portal as he fell into the depths of his own mind. Cyborg chuckled, but immediately stopped when he found himself face-to-face with an irritated Raven.

"Come on, he had that one coming," he explained, failing to contain another satisfied chuckle.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Fine, but it's your job to explain to Starfire exactly where her suicidal boyfriend is."

Cyborg's human eye widened. "Hold on a second, Rae!" he protested.

Raven pulled her hood up over her head, and dove after Robin into the portal. Immediately, the tunnel vanished, leaving Cyborg alone in the dark room, surrounded by blinking medical equipment.

"Great job, Cyborg," he muttered to himself. "How am I going to explain this to Star?"

Then he allowed himself a small grin. "Dick," he chuckled. "Beast Boy's going to get a kick out of that."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans)


	2. Crash Landing

Delusions 2

Falling down a magic portal into his own mind wasn't Robin's idea of fun. An intricate mystery, sure. An obstacle course with explosives and a firing squad? Why not. Tumbling down a seemingly endless tunnel into the depths of his own mind while strapped to a steel chair? Not so much. The strangest part of the voyage was that Robin could actually FEEL himself entering his mind. It was an irritating sensation, like when you can't get water out of your ear after swimming. Robin had long since stopped struggling fruitlessly against his bonds. A few minutes later, he had even stopped howling curses at Cyborg. The tunnel, though, decided to mock him, echoing his outrage off of the shadowy walls. So far, they showed no signs of fading. Robin had lost track of Raven seconds after entering the portal, so he could only hope she was still nearby. For all he knew, though, she could be miles above him. The tunnel seemed to stretch infinitely, with no bottom in sight. Robin didn't want to know what would happen if he crashed into the sides of the tunnel, so he tried to stay as close to the center as possible. To pass the time, Robin had started to count the seconds as he plummeted towards who-knows-what, but had given up when he had reached 7,269 seconds. He could keep falling for hours and still be nowhere near the bottom of the tunnel.

Then, the tunnel had simply vanished, and Robin was left plummeting towards very solid-looking concrete. Fortunately, the chair had hit the ground first, absorbing most of the impact. Less fortunately, the chair didn't break. Instead, it had bounced like a basketball, flipping Robin face-first into a puddle of sludge. Robin didn't even bother attempting to push himself upright. Not only the chair weigh him down, but also restrained him from pushing himself in any direction. Robin decided that, if he got out of this alive, he would take the "Psycho-Chair", as Cyborg had affectionately named it, and cast it into the deepest pit to Hell he could find. Preferably a portal into Beast Boy's brain. In the meantime, however, Robin would just have to try not to gag on the slime he lay in and wait until Raven located him.

It took significantly longer than he expected.

Robin was considering starting to count the seconds again when his chair was suddenly yanked back up into the upright position, allowing Robin to gasp for air. Raven stood behind the chair, trying to steady the legs on the broken concrete.

"That's a good look for you," she commented dryly, glancing at Robin's mud-splattered face.

"Very funny," he muttered. "Would you mind untying me now?" After a minute of Raven adjusting the straps, Robin stood up, massaging his wrists. "Honestly, if I get my hands on Cyborg…" he growled.

"You'll what? Hold a magnet against his head?" Raven asked sarcastically. She surveyed the area around them. "It took a while to find you," she explained. "The layout of your mind is not exactly simple."

For the first time, Robin looked up at the scenery of his mind. The area around them was constructed like a city block, albeit a very unusual one. The buildings seemed like they were cobbled together from pieces of different cities. Some parts of the buildings were gleaming steel, similar to the bright high-rises of Jump City. Most of the city, however, was vastly different. The buildings were splattered with crude graffiti, masking the decrepit foundations. Skyscrapers constructed of darkened bricks and rusting steel stretched towards the heavens, almost blotting out the night sky above. The streets were filthy with stains of oil and waste, dented garbage cans dumped their putrid contents into the alleyways. Occasionally, a police siren would pierce the otherwise silent night air, but would soon fade into the distance. The city seemed to be glaring down at the two, daring them to step out of line.

"Interesting." Raven's voice echoed across the buildings, disturbing the odd tranquility of the scene. "The landscape reflects the thoughts and memories of the owner," Raven explained, slightly startled by how loud her voice seemed in the silence. "I recognize the sections of Jump City, of course, but the others…" Raven trailed off, gazing up at the buildings.

Robin glanced at the street signs lining the streets. Some appeared shiny and new, emblazoned with the streets of Jump City. Others were labeled with more abstract terms, such as ANGER and SERENITY. One sign pointed down an alley off of an old theater, illegible with fading letters and rusting steel. The theater's corroded sign advertised long-passed shows, with depictions of Zorro plastered on peeling posters. Across the side of the theater, a vagrant had spray painted a barely legible "Crime Alley" along the cinderblocks that made up the theater.

Robin turned away from the alley. "It's just a city," he muttered, turning back to Raven. "It isn't anything more."

Raven nodded, recognizing Robin didn't want to elaborate. "We should probably start patrolling the area," she suggested, glancing down the streets. "Your 'problem' could be anywhere, and we won't find it by just standing around here."

Robin nodded. "Let's go. The sooner we find whatever hacked my brain, the better."

The next block looked almost exactly the same as the first, followed by another copy, and another. The only distinction between the city blocks were the slightly varied buildings. The theater disappeared behind them, replaced with a trashed "Iceberg Lounge" nightclub, a chemical plant, and other unusual destinations. It wasn't exactly the type of place Robin would book a vacation. Robin glanced back at Raven, who occasionally gazed up at the wreckage of the city with mild fascination.

"Can you fly?" Robin asked. "That way we could patrol the city much faster than walking."

Raven frowned. "Maybe," she replied. "There are hazards, though. Your mind may respond differently to what doesn't naturally happen in the world."

Robin grinned slightly. "I've seen a green, shape-shifting boy, an orange alien princess, a man-machine hybrid, and you, all in the past week. If I'm not used to flying creatures by now, I don't know when I will."

Raven nodded. "I'll try. Just be prepared, in case your mind shatters."

"Ha, ha," Robin replied. Raven closed her eyes and focused, beginning to hover a few inches into the air. Robin shifted uncomfortably. "You were kidding, right?"

Raven didn't respond, concentrating fully on the usually simple act of flying. Her eyes stayed closed, and she began muttering incantations Robin didn't recognize. Robin caught himself staring at her face and averted his gaze. For another moment, Raven hovered peacefully. Then she gasped, clutching her chest. Raven dropped to the ground, staggering. Robin began to rush over, but Raven shook her head, holding out her hand to keep him away.

"I'm…fine," she gasped, her hand still over her heart. "Just…give me a moment."

Robin looked at her with concern as Raven's labored breathing returned to normal. She looked up and glared at him. "Nice mental firewall, Robin," she snapped, walking past him angrily. "Almost stopped my heart when I tried floating higher than a few inches."

Robin winced, stung by the insult. "Sorry," he mumbled, following after Raven. "I'm not exactly in control of my mind at the moment."

Up ahead, Raven stiffened, but kept walking forwards. Robin stared at her, confused. "Hey, I didn't mean to-" he began.

"Don't turn around," Raven hissed. "There's someone on the roof, two buildings behind us."

Robin froze. Resisting every urge to turn around, he continued to march forward in a slow, methodical pace. His brain immediately kicked into attack mode, surveying the area for anything that could be used as a weapon. Glancing at a shard of metal impaled in the side of a rusting taxi, Robin could see the reflection of a figure crouching on a nearby rooftop. Too far away to surprise attack, too close to make any suspicious movements. Whoever this guy was, he was an expert. Without turning his head, Robin whispered, "How far can you teleport? Fifty yards?"

"Usually, but the laws of physics are altered in the mind. I might overshoot by hundreds of yards, or not be able to teleport at all. Your firewall might try to stop my heart again, or let me through unscathed."

Robin nodded almost imperceptibly. Unfortunately, the figure on the rooftop noticed. He shot up, preparing to run.

"Now!" Robin cried. Raven vanished, and Robin could only hope she rematerialized somewhere nearby the target. Robin whipped around and fired his grappling hook towards the rooftops, zipping upwards in a microsecond. Reaching the top, Robin was immediately greeted with a bucket of red paint. The paint splashed across his already blood-streaked face, coating his face in the crimson hue. Robin lashed out blindly, scraping the side of his opponent's face. In return, Robin was rewarded a blow to the face, causing him to stagger backwards a few inches.

Unfortunately, those few inches were all that separated the rooftop from empty air. Robin stumbled off the edge of the rooftop, fully expecting to be flattened on the pavement below. Instead, Robin's wrist was grabbed, held with a firm grip. Robin exhaled in relief.

"Thanks, Raven," he muttered, as he was hauled back up on to the roof. The gloved hand released Robin as soon as he climbed up onto the building's roof, but he relaxed. As long as Raven was okay, he was fine.

"Thanks, Raven," he repeated. "I owe you one."

"Good to know."

That wasn't Raven's voice.

Robin tried desperately to wipe to paint off of his face, bracing himself for the next attack. No attack came. Within a minute, Robin had cleared enough paint off of his mask to see. Crouching in front of Robin, staring at him as if he were an interesting science experiment, sat Red-X. Robin yelled in surprise, instinctively throwing a punch. Barely flinching, Red-X deflected the punch, snatched Robin's wrist, and pinned him to the ground, arm behind the back.

"Really, kid," Red-X chuckled. "I'm not going to be done in by someone who can barely handle himself."

Robin struggled against Red-X, but it was hopeless. He had been sloppy, allowing himself to relax, instinctively assuming it was Raven who had saved him.

"Yeah, that was my fault, by the way," Red-X commented, almost as if he knew what Robin had been thinking. "Instinct is my area of specialty."

"What did you do with Raven?" Robin growled, his voice muffled by the rooftop.

"Nothing." Red-X sounded both surprised and insulted by the question. "Honestly, kid, this is your head. Deaths don't occur unless you permit it, or something gets loose."

Red-X released Robin, as if he had just made peace between the two. Robin immediately leapt to his feet, shifting into a fighting stance.

"Something like you?" Robin growled. "You're the one who forced me to almost kill myself?"

Red-X snorted. "Right. I intend to kill you, but I save you from falling off of a building. Assassination 101, kid; don't save who you're trying to kill."

Robin slowly shifted out of his fighting stance, still wary of Red-X's relaxed demeanor. "If you're not here to kill me, why are you in here?"

Before Red-X could respond, the air a few feet away from the apartments, above the street, seemed to pop, and suddenly Raven appeared. She hovered in place for a few seconds, eyes closed. Then she dropped like a rock, plummeting towards the street ten stories below.

"Raven!" Robin and Red-X both shouted. The two dashed for the edge of the building, leaping off the ridge after Raven. Robin fired his grappling hook up onto the rooftop, securing it on an air ventilation grate. Red-X plummeted past him, showing no signs of slowing. Upon reaching Raven, he grabbed her around the waist and dematerialized, inches from the concrete. Robin stopped his descent, swearing. Red-X could materialize miles away. Raven could be long gone by now. Robin began to climb back up the side of the apartment complex, furious with himself. Raven could very well be murdered at the hands of Red-X, all because Robin wasn't quick enough to save her. Red-X had sworn that no one died in Robin's head unless he allowed it. Yeah, sure, of course Robin was going to believe the thief. Robin hauled himself back up onto the roof of the apartments. For all he knew, Red-X and Raven could be-

Kissing?

Robin stared at the bizarre sight before him. Raven lay on her back, Red-X crouching over her, his face pressed against hers. Red-X's mask lay discarded nearby, staring up at the night sky. For a moment, Robin's brain short-circuited. He was about to strangle Red-X when Red-X released Raven, who flopped back down onto the rooftop. He began to rapidly press down on her chest. It took a moment, but Robin recognized the pattern. Red-X was administering CPR. Red-X glanced up at him, and Robin almost had a heart attack. Red-X had Robin's face. He didn't just look similar, he WAS Robin, from the spiky hair to the mask.

"Her heart's stopped," Red-X reported worriedly. "She's dying."

The simple statement snapped Robin out of his trance. He would figure out Red-X later. Right now, Raven needed help. Robin rushed over, yanking a device the size of matchbox out of his utility belt. Red-X glanced up.

"What is that, some kind of first aid kit?" he asked, continuing to apply CPR.

"Close," Robin answered. Pulling on the handles on either side of the device, the machine split into three parts: two small pads with handles, wired to a blinking battery box. Robin pushed Red-X aside, and began frantically rubbing the two pads together. The two pads began to crackle with electricity, and a small light on the battery box lit up green.

"Clear!" Robin shouted, shoving the two pads against Raven's chest. Raven shuddered, shocked by the defibrillator. Robin began to reset the defibrillator for another shock, but Red-X stopped him. He pressed his fingers against Raven's wrist and held them there for a long moment, waiting.

"She has a pulse," he sighed, relieved. "She's going to be okay."

Raven gasped, and her eyes fluttered open. Looking up, she saw two figures staring down at her, faces creased with concern. On her left crouched Robin, who clutched some sort of gadget, and on her right crouched… Robin?

"Oh God," Raven groaned. "There are two of them."

Following that, Raven promptly passed out.

Red-X and Robin stared down at the unconscious Raven. Robin looked over at Red-X.

"Okay, start talking," he demanded.

Red-X didn't bother looking up from Raven. "Why? Feeling chatty?"

Robin glared at him. "You spy on us, you punch me off of a rooftop," he listed, checking the events off with his fingers, "I am then saved from said punch, you pin me to the ground, then save Raven's life, all while having my face. Who are you?"

Red-X glanced up at Robin. "You remember how Raven's personality traits were expressed as identical versions of herself, only with different attitudes and outfits?" Red-X asked, attempting not to grin mischievously.

"Yes?" Robin hadn't seen any of the depictions of Raven's moods personally, but Cyborg had described the different sides of Raven's personality, including the pink, happy one, the red, angry one, and way too many more.

Red-X grinned. "Put it together, kid. You're currently inhabiting your own mind, I look exactly like you, and I'm dressed differently and act differently than you."

Robin stared at him blankly for a moment. Then he clutched his forehead like his brain had just melted.

"Don't tell me..." Robin muttered. "You can't be…"

Red-X stood up triumphantly. "Yep. May I introduce to you Red-X, a permanent exhibit in Robin's mind. Hold your applause."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans)


	3. Warped Perspectives

Robin resolved to, somehow, alter the decor of his mind. The apartment he was currently seated in looked like it had been a dumpster for the last six months. Such a large amount of paint had peeled from the wall, there were more paint chips on the floor than on the wall. The moldy carpet was soggy no matter where he stepped, and Robin didn't even want to know where the smell was coming from. He had decided to sit in one of the few chairs in the kitchen, not because it was cleaner than the rest of the room, but because the floorboards beneath the carpet groaned as of they could give way if Robin took one more step. Robin glanced at Red-X, who was rooting through an overturned refrigerator in search of anything edible.

"This can't be the best place you could have found," Robin muttered, examining the rotting table where he was seated.

Red-X poked his head out from the refrigerator, examining what appeared to be a tinfoil-wrapped burrito. "It's not," Red-X replied, removing a small section of the tinfoil to peer at what it contained. "I just don't want you two at my place." Red-X removed his mask, revealing the carbon copy of Robin's face. Robin winced, still not comfortable with the fact that at least a dozen versions of himself were running around with his face. The fact that they each were actually a part of his subconscious didn't make him feel any better.

Red-X took a tentative bite out of the burrito, turning back to face Robin. "Besides, we needed to get to the closest apartment we could find. Stopping your girlfriends heart doesn't exactly make her portable."

Robin glanced behind him, studying the door that separated the one bedroom from the rest of the apartment. Raven hadn't regain consciousness since her teleportation attempt had gone drastically wrong. Two hours had passed, and Robin was still worried about her condition. Then, Red-X's statement caught up to him.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Robin cried. Lowering his voice, wary of waking up Raven, he repeated, "She's not my girlfriend."

Red-X shrugged indifferently, taking another bite out of the burrito. "Whatever," he said, chewing his long-expired burrito slowly. "I'm just saying, she wasn't easy to bring here."

Robin nodded. Usually, Raven wasn't a burden at all. She could fly, for crying out loud. Unfortunately, a heart attack has the tendency to make the most agile hero into a lump more closely resembling a sack of potatoes. Robin had lost count of how many times they had accidentally smacked Raven's head against a doorframe, piece of furniture, or the side of a model space shuttle (don't ask). They had managed to carry her into the apartment and dump her onto the bed, praying that she wouldn't remember how many times they had dropped her by mistake.

That had been two hours ago. Robin was about to stand up and check on her when the door to the bedroom creaked open. Raven walked into the kitchen, rubbing her head. Glancing up, she saw Robin, half-out of his seat, and Robin, with half of a burrito crammed into his mouth. Red-X's mask sat on the table, staring up at the ceiling.

"Red-X?" she asked, glancing at the Robin with the burrito stuffed in his mouth. He nodded, hurriedly swallowing the remainder of the burrito.

"You were the one spying on us from the top of the building?" she sighed, pulling another seat over to the kitchen table.

"Yep," Red-X confirmed, plopping down into his chair and throwing his feet up onto the table.

"Probably a reflection of one side of Robin personality?" Raven guessed, pushing Red-X's feet off of the table.

Red-X turned to Robin, gesturing towards Raven. "See? She gets it."

Robin winced, looking down at the table. "I'm not exactly used to seeing the residents of my own mind."

Red-X shrugged. "Fine. Red-X, representative of Impulse and Experience, at your service."

Raven raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Two? Usually there's a single representative for each emotion."

Red-X chuckled. "Yeah, there definitely used to be more. But that was before Boy Wonder here decided to go through therapy for the third time in a row." Red-X tossed the leftover tinfoil from his burrito at Robin, who caught the ball before it hit him.

"It wasn't my fault the third time," Robin insisted, tossing the tinfoil into the wastebasket. "After Slade came back from the dead, the other Titans forced me into it. They thought I was going to go through some kind of relapse with my Slade… issues."

"Can you blame us?" Raven asked, turning her attention to Robin. "The entire reason Red-X exists is that you wouldn't let go of your Slade problems."

"The point is," Red-X interrupted, "Robin's mind is built to be efficient. After therapy, half of the population faded, leaving the remaining emotions with twice the work we used to have. I've been working myself to death recently."

Robin looked at him, confused. "Working? I only base my decisions off of impulse a few times a month."

"Yeah, it was perfect that way," Red-X sighed. "Work only a couple times a year, and reap the benefits. After the 'Great Fadeout' though, I was stuck with Experience. Every time you think, fight, or even breathe, I have to do the heavy lifting. Impulse was easy. I'm not exactly loving the new deal."

Raven shook her head. "Enough about Robin's emotions. We need to find what caused Robin's suicide attempt."

Robin nodded, remembering the initial goal of their mission. "Have you seen anything? You seem to know a lot about my suicide attempt."

Red-X picked back up his mask, staring at the design thoughtfully. "Two things, kid. One, I know about your suicide attempt because I literally live in your head. It's not exactly news to me. Two, I don't know anything about who or what caused it. You lost memory around the point of 'the incident', right?"

Red-X took Robin's silence as agreement.

"Okay, well, something else was controlling you at the time. We, your emotions, thoughts, whatever, reset. Only a few of us have any idea what's behind this."

"A few of you," Raven mused. "Any idea who might know what happened?"

Red-X started to open his mouth to respond, then quickly shut it. "Um, I'm not sure, actually. Could be anyone." Red-X mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Raven and Robin exchanged a look of disbelief. Did Red-X honestly believe he could fool them? Beast Boy came up with better lies than that pathetic attempt. Red-X noticed their doubting expressions, and his resolve weakened.

"Okay, maybe I do know one or two. Just don't tell them I sent you. I owe some of them favors." Red-X muttered, glancing nervously out the window.

Robin pulled a miniature pen and notepad out of his utility belt. "Who do you know?" Robin demanded.

"Jealousy, maybe. No, wait, he disappeared along with the others." Red-X glanced upwards, running through a mental list of Robin's emotions. "Rage wasn't active at the time. Definitely not Joy, I haven't seen him in a while. Possibly Fury, but he's usually with Rage. Passion, maybe?"

Red-X paused, a slow grin creeping across his face. Robin was once again surprised how both he and Red-X shared the same face, but looked nothing alike in expressions.

"Red," Red-X announced.

Robin stared at him, confused. "Red?"

"Go talk to Red, he can help," Red-X insisted. Snatching the pen and paper out of Robin's hands, Red-X began to scribble down a few notes. "He's usually at this address," he explained, handing the paper back to Robin. "Trust me on this one."

Robin wasn't entirely comfortable with trusting Red-X with anything more than petty theft, but he slipped the note into his belt. "Okay, we'll try to find Red. Anything else you can tell us?"

Red-X pushed back from the table, getting to his feet and snatching his mask from the table. "Only a bit of advice," he replied, walking towards a window at the edge of the kitchen. "Even if you find whatever caused this mess, you're not coming back out of here the way you were."

Robin stood up, startled. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"You're not coming back out of here the Robin you were, or not coming back at all," Red-X continued, throwing up the window, allowing a gust of the cold night air to chill the room. Red-X began to pull down his mask, but then paused, glancing back at the two. He turned and stared down towards the street, leaning on the windowsill. "Some advice for you too, Raven," he muttered, surveying the night from the window.

Raven stepped forward, confused. "What, that I'm not going to be the Raven I used to be? That cliché has been used too many times."

Red-X shook his head. "No, something simpler," he murmured. Suddenly, he turned around to face Raven, and gave her a quick kiss. Raven's appalled expression was only matched by Robin's look of both humiliation and absolute fury.

"Call me sometime," Red-X chuckled, before pulling on his mask and diving out the window, disappearing from view.

For a moment, the room was completely silent. Then Robin made a noise midway between a choke, a gasp, and a strangled cat. "Raven, I… he wasn't… I didn't mean to…" Robin stammers faded off as he tried desperately to think of a way to make the situation any less awkward.

Raven stood in silence, staring out the window where Red-X has made his timely escape. Finally, she turned to face Robin, her face eerily calm.

"It's okay, Robin," she said indifferently. Robin stepped back in surprise, his predicament apparently solved. "You can't control the emotions and thoughts in your mind."

Robin's eyebrows shot up. He'd almost expected Raven to attack him because of Red-X's rash actions. "Seriously?" Robin asked, bewildered.

Raven shrugged. "If I knew how to control my emotions, Rage wouldn't have gotten loose in my mind, and Happy wouldn't have laughed at Beast Boy's stupid jokes. You don't need to apologize. I know you didn't mean for it to happen."

Robin blinked. "Okay, cool," he replied, digging the piece of paper Red-X had handed him out of his belt. "We should probably find whoever this 'Red' is, though."

Raven nodded in agreement. As she turned towards the door, she called over her shoulder, "Oh, and Robin?"

Robin continued to study the paper in his hand. "Yeah?"

"Try to keep the rest of your emotions away from me."

Robin didn't answer, reading the scrawled note at the bottom of the paper. "_Keep Raven away from Red at all costs!"_

* * *

Apparently, Robin's subconscious came in neon. The motel standing before Robin was adorned with a flashing, scarlet VACANT sign, causing the entire block to light up a pinkish hue every few seconds. Robin glanced back down at the crumpled slip of paper in his hand. _13 Eros Avenue_. Apparently, Red preferred living in a cheesy motel than anywhere else. Go figure.

Robin reviewed the advice scribbled on the paper once more. "_Claim to be me (Red-X)", "Don't mention my debt", _and the most ominous of all_, "Keep Raven away from Red at all costs!" _

The instructions didn't exactly reassure Robin that this 'Red' was helpful. He sounded more like a mafia boss than a friendly motel attendant. Robin stood in front of the bright orange door alone, trying to work up the nerve to knock. He had convinced Raven to stay back, supposedly on "Guard Duty" nearby. Robin didn't want to explain Red-X's slightly embarrassing instructions to Raven, so he had to practically beg her to stay outside. Unfortunately, Raven's powers were severely limited within Robin's mind, causing her not to appear an ideal candidate to be much of a guard. Robin knew he must have sounded incredibly suspicious, but it was the only way to keep Raven away from the building.

Robin sighed. He wasn't going to progress if he just stood on the doorstep. Besides, the sooner he finished this lead, the better. Robin began to knock on the door. He had barely tapped the door when the entrance flew open, a replica of Robin standing in the doorway. Scratch that, not a perfect replica. Robin could see why they called this emotion Red. The boy was a few inches shorter than Robin, making him look almost childlike. His uniform was completely scarlet, with the exception being the cape, which was a bright white. Even the white eyes of the mask had been dyed scarlet, completing the look. Red stared at Robin, apparently looking straight below his eyes. The two stood in the doorway for almost a full minute before Red spoke up.

"Who is it?" Red asked expectantly, smiling slightly. Robin was surprised by how different Red's voice sounded in comparison to his own. Red's voice sounded much cheerier and childish, as opposed to Robin's more serious tone.

"I'm Robi-" Robin began to introduce himself, before correcting his statement. "Um, Red-X."

Red's face broke out into a wide grin. "X! How are you doing?" Red exclaimed, ushering Robin into the motel's lobby. Red must have been colorblind, as the decorations were incredibly garish. Bright orange couches were positioned against the lime-green wallpaper, sitting upon the red shag carpet.

"Sit down," Red requested eagerly, gesturing in the general direction of the sofas. Robin sat down uncomfortably, studying the bizarre decor of the lobby. Red paced around the lobby, feeling around for the tables and desks. "I know I left a teapot around here somewhere…" Red muttered.

Glancing around the room, Robin noticed a tray with the teapot and teacups sitting on a table nearby Red. "To your left," he suggested. Red fumbled for the teapot, brushing his hand against it several times. Finally, he grabbed the handle, presenting the teapot triumphantly to the wall opposite Robin. "I'm over here," Robin reminded him.

Red blushed. "Oops."

After watching Red struggle to pour the tea into a teacup, Red's affliction dawned on Robin. "You're blind!" Robin exclaimed, standing up to help Red pour the tea.

Robin could tell Red was rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Yes, yes, you've certainly mentioned that fact enough, X. I've heard your routine, 'love is blind', yadda yadda yadda."

Robin almost dropped the teapot. "Wait, you're Love?"

Red nodded absentmindedly, clutching his teacup. "Yes, yes, we've been over this," Red said as he took a long, slow sip of his tea. "You're voice sounds different, by the way. Did the big man choose a different form for Impulse? Do you have a new costume?"

Robin glanced down at his bloodstained, mud-splattered ensemble. "Something like that."

Red waved off the statement. "No need to describe it, I can take a look in a moment."

Robin sat back down on the sofa, placing his untouched teacup onto the floor beside him. "Aren't you, uh…" Robin began.

"Blind?" Red finished. "Don't worry, my other form has normal sight. You're not the only one who was assigned another form at the 'Great Fadeout', X."

Red chuckled as if the two of them were sharing a private joke. Robin glanced around the room awkwardly. "I actually had a question to ask," Robin explained.

"Well, what is it, then?" Red asked cheerily. Red always seemed to keep a perpetual smile one his face, as if he always found his surroundings amusing.

Robin explained the event surrounding his attempted suicide, attempting to weave the story to fit Red-X's point of view. Red listened intently, occasionally taking a sip out of his teacup. Setting down his drink, he stared at Robin, confused.

"I can see why you'd want to know why the big man tried to off himself, by why did you come to me?" Red inquired.

Robin placed his teacup on a nearby table, just as confused as Red. "I was told-," Robin began before correcting himself. "Um, I thought you might have an idea of what happened."

Red shook his head, bewildered. "Even if I were in control at the time, I would have been reset like you had, X," Red explained.

"In control at the time?" Robin asked warily.

"Yes, I believe I already told you. I have two forms, Love and L-"

Red suddenly ceased speaking, shivering as if the room temperature had dropped thirty degrees. "Oh dear," Red mumbled. "It appears my time is up."

An odd transformation began to Red's appearance. He seemed to grow a few inches, matching Robin in height. His scarlet uniform seemed to darken, causing the hues to become blood red. The white cape completely shifted colors, turning as black as night. The mask inverted colors, black eyes in a red frame. The newly transformed Red leaned back on the sofa, stretching.

"Aaah, that's better," Red sighed. Robin was astounded. Red's voice and mannerisms had shifted. His voice seemed to have gone through puberty in ten seconds, causing it to sound closer to Robin's normal tone than the previous Red's. Red still kept a perpetual grin on his face, but the underlying tone of the smile had shifted. Rather than an "I'm glad you're here" smile, this appeared to be an "I know something you don't" smirk.

Red stood up, glancing around at the grotesque decor of the motel. "God, the other me needs to give up trying to decorate," Red muttered, strolling over to a mini-fridge concealed behind the front counter. "You want anything, X?" Red asked absentmindedly, snatching a root beer from the fridge. Robin shook his head weakly, studying the new Red. Rather than the kindly, gentlemen-like Red Robin had met earlier, this incarnation reminded Robin more of the Red-X he had encountered earlier. That wasn't reassuring.

Red glanced up from the fridge to study Robin. "Yeah, your outfit definitely changed," Red decided, popping the lid of his soda. "Let me see."

Robin stood up awkwardly, allowing Red to take a quick overview of his outfit.

"Unoriginal," Red concluded, falling back down onto the couch.

"What?" Robin asked, slightly offended.

"You look almost just like the big guy. Plus some bloodstains and mud. At least your Red-X appearance was interesting."

Robin sat back down, unable to decide if he were more offended by the insult or unsettled by Red's sudden change of attitude.

"Anyway," Robin began. "I was wondering…"

"Yeah, yeah, the suicide," Red interrupted. "I heard you when the other Red was talking."

"Uh, yeah," Robin replied, slightly taken aback. "Were you, um, conscious at the time?"

Red waved off the question. "Yeah, of course I was. The SDS are always up and running."

Robin frowned. "The SDS?"

Red sighed like he was tired of answering the question. "You know, the Seven Deadly Sins. We're always functioning, no matter what happens."

Robin almost fell off the sofa. "Wait, you're telling me you're one of the-"

Robin was interrupted when the door was suddenly thrown open, revealing a worried Raven. "Robin," Raven warned. "Something really bad is coming up the street. It'll be here in a few minutes."

Red stood, staring at the new arrival. Robin swore under his breath. When he assigned Raven to guard duty, he never thought she'd actually see anything.

"You are definitely too pretty to be part of Robin's mind," Red decided, sauntering up to Raven.

Raven rolled her eyes, obviously tired of Robin's subconscious flirting with her. "Not interested," she snapped at Red, extending a hand to push him away.

To Raven's surprise and Robin's mortification, Red not only caught Raven's hand before it hit him, but gave it a light kiss. "Will you at least grant me your name before you completely reject me?"

Raven glanced between Robin and Red. "Don't tell me," Raven groaned.

Robin opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. It was Red who spoke up first.

"The name's Red," Red began. "Very pleased to meet you."

Raven yanked her hand out of Red's. "We don't have time for this," Raven growled. "There's a small army marching up the street towards this building. Apparently, one of the Robins is leading them."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans)


	4. Villains and Heroes

Robin's subconscious was apparently filled to the brim with psychos. First Red-X, then Red, and now apparently some sort of army commander. Robin stared down at the huge mass of boys marching down Eros Avenue. Well, maybe "marching" was the wrong word. The mob didn't exactly seem coordinated enough to qualify as marching. Rather than an army-style approach, chaos ruled in the ranks. Groups of the "terrorists", for lack of a better term, surged forward, scrambling over stalled cars and shoving past each other. Some were armed with improvised weapons, such as lead pipes and aluminum baseball bats, while some seemed to be better armed. Every few seconds, a Molotov cocktail would be thrown, smashing through a nearby building's window and bursting into flame. Robin caught a glimpse of a couple of swords and flails, and he could have sworn he spotted a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. The boys that formed the army didn't seem to resemble Robin, however. Sure, some shared the same hairstyle, and almost all of them wore his signature mask, but, in general, it seemed more like a group of juvenile delinquents had dressed up as the Boy Wonder for Halloween. Not exactly flattering.

Robin glanced at Raven and Red, who crouched next to him, studying the approaching army of boys. Getting up to the roof had been a hassle, but it was vastly superior to sitting down in the motel, waiting for the army's arrival. The trickiest part of climbing up onto the roof had been Red. He hadn't been physically unable, of course. He was a sliver of Robin's personality, after all. The problem was, most of Red's focus was not on climbing, but on Raven. Not a moment had passed in which he wasn't trying to flirt, touch, or otherwise seduce her. It had gotten to the point where Raven had spent valuable magic in order to scorch Red's face. Robin couldn't blame her. Red continued to insist his hands had slipped, that he had only meant to help Raven up to the roof. Right. Robin couldn't decide if he was more embarrassed, angry, or simply bewildered by Red's actions. For now, though, Robin had more pressing concerns.

"Who are they?" Robin hissed, glancing back down at the chaos below.

"Relax, Rob-O," Red chuckled, making no effort to disguise his voice. "They can barely hear each other, with all the racket they're making. No way they can hear us."

Robin glared at him. "You haven't answered my question."

Red shrugged. "It's probably Wrath leading them. He can always stir up a riot when things go downhill. Heck, he could start a riot in a Sunday School." Red gestured at the mob below. "Those are the Turmoils. Always looking for a good fight. They'll settle down soon."

Raven raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think they'll simply stop rioting?"

Red grinned. "They won't. Either they'll be scattered or Wrath will be taken out."

Robin held up his hand to hold the conversation. "Hold on. First, who are the Turmoils and Wrath? And how are they going to be taken out?"

Red sighed, as if Robin had asked an idiotic question. "The Turmoils are any doubts, ill-fated quests, or negative experiences you've encountered," Red explained. "None of them have distinct features, as they are more of a collective consciousness. None are particularly bright, either. Fun to gamble against. Wrath, on the other hand…"

Red trailed off as a figure emerged from the mob. Standing atop a wrecked convertible, rallying the Turmoils, stood one of the Robins. Robin gasped involuntarily. He recognized the uniform the Robin wore all too well. His hair was slicked back, and he wore the same face as the other Robins, but that was where the similarities ended. The mask was sharp and angular. He wore a steel collar around his neck, and the torso was split into two colors: orange and black. Pinned to his chest, the Robin below wore an insignia unreadable from the rooftop, but Robin remembered clearly. The insignia was a gleaming metal "S"; the mark of Slade.

Raven glanced over at Robin. "Is that…?" Raven began uncertainly.

"The apprentice," Robin growled.

Red chuckled. "Looks like you're familiar with Wrath."

Wrath rallied the crowd below, barking orders and waving an assault rifle above his head, firing rounds into the air. He wore crude orange and black face paint, which did nothing to disguise his look of twisted glee and pride in creating the chaos on the streets. The Turmoils cheered, attacking the city with renewed effort. Robin ducked as a Molotov cocktail spun over his head, missing him by inches. Chaos reigned.

Suddenly, the situation took a dangerous turn. A group of the Turmoils dragged a resisting Robin towards Wrath. The kicking and shouting Robin was difficult to see from the rooftops, but Robin could tell that he was outfitted in a tuxedo rather than the usual ensemble.

Red flinched slightly. "Crap, that's Mourning. This isn't going to end well for him."

Robin jumped to his feet, but Red yanked him back down. "What do you think you're going to do, take on all of them? Good luck. You die, everything else here dies with you."

Robin glared at Red. "I can't just sit here!"

Raven shook her head. "Red's right."

Red grinned at her. "Looks like the lady agrees with me."

Raven glared with him with enough hate to turn him to stone. "Let me rephrase that. Red's _statement _was correct. There must be more than a hundred down there. You can't win against that many enemies."

Down below, Wrath crouched down next to Mourning, a crocodile's grin on his face. Mourning spat on Wrath's face and continued to struggle against the Turmoils that restrained him. Wrath calmly wiped the spit off of his face, continuing to grin at Mourning. Lowering his assault rifle, Wrath forced the barrel of the gun into Mourning's mouth. Eyes wide, Mourning struggled desperately to escape, to the amusement of the Turmoils. Wrath's crocodile grin turned to a look of raw hatred as he squeezed the trigger.

The crackle of gunfire seemed amplified in Robin ears. The back of Mourning's head burst, showering blood, skin, and fragments of bone across the rioting Turmoils. Robin made a choking noise, clutching his chest. He collapsed, screaming in agony. Raven and Red hurried over to him. Raven immediately lifted her hands to apply healing magic, but Red held out his hand to stop her.

"It'll fade in a minute," Red protested, not taking his eyes off of Robin, who thrashed on the ground.

Raven pushed past him. "He needs help!" Raven exclaimed, almost shoving Red off of the roof. Crouching over Robin, she held her hands over his chest, mumbling an incantation. Robin's chest began to glow with black energy, but his cries of agony didn't cease. Raven doubled her efforts, but Robin's condition only worsened. Finally, Red pushed her back.

"It's psychological pain!" Red shouted at Raven. "You can't heal it with a few words of hocus pocus!"

A few seconds later, Robin's cries began to fade, dissolving into gasps of pain. Raven crouched next to him.

"You're going to be okay, Robin," Raven insisted. "Try to hold on."

After a few minutes, Robin's gasps for air slowed, and he looked up carefully. Drying tears stained his cheeks, causing his the mud still upon his face to streak.

"I-I'm okay," Robin groaned, trying to sit up. Raven held him down carefully.

"Don't try to move too fast," Raven warned. "It won't help your condition."

Robin complied reluctantly. "Is Mourning… is he…?"

"Dead," Raven replied softly.

"Injured," Red corrected.

Raven glared at him. "He had the back of his head blown out by an assault rifle. He's dead."

Red shook his head. "Emotions don't die. They may fade for a little bit, but they don't disappear forever."

"So Mourning may still be okay?" Robin asked, trying to sit up.

"Right now? No. The dude had the back of his head blown out. But he will heal. He'll be back to normal by the end of the week."

Robin sighed. "Good. Right now, though, we need to stop Wrath."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Red commented, staring over the edge of the rooftop.

With Raven's assistance, Robin dragged himself over to where Red sat. In the mob below, Wrath held up his hand, causing the crowd to fall silent. Wrath stared warily up the street, aiming his blood-soaked assault rifle at an unseen target. Listening carefully, Robin could make out the faint roar of approaching motorcycles. Suddenly, a band of motorcycles blasted around the street corner, running straight towards the chaotic mob. Wrath began to bark orders desperately, releasing a hail of bullets from his assault rifle at the approaching motorbikes. The bullets quizzed harmlessly past the motorcycles, which were now within twenty yards of the mob. Robin could make out four motorcycles, all of which screeched to a halt as the riders launched off of the bikes, flying through the night air. As one, the four riders landed in the crowd and sprung into action. The mob scattered, Wrath's influence evaporating. Robin tried to keep track of the four motorcyclists, but it was like trying to keep track of bullets fired out of a machine gun. The cyclists bounced from Turmoil to Turmoil, who began dropping like flies. The still-standing Turmoils trampled each other in their attempts to escape, but only succeeded in causing the street to become more chaotic, of which the cyclists gladly took advantage. Wrath shouted at his fleeing followers, firing rounds of ammo into the crowd with hopes of injuring a cyclist, but it was hopeless. Before long, only one third of Wrath's followers remained, with the others either unconscious or fleeing. Wrath whipped out what appeared to be a hand grenade, but a back-flipping motorcyclist immediately snatched it from his hand. Wrath roared in anger, but soon fell silent when he was slammed against the pavement by another cyclist.

Red whistled softly. "I've seen these guys work a thousand times, but, man, they're good."

Robin stared at him. "You know who they are?"

"Barely," Red replied. "They squash the riots and terror attacks. Seen them once or twice. They do good work."

Robin stood up with difficulty. "We should go help them."

"Robin, you're still injured," Raven pointed out. "You'll probably do more harm than good."

"Besides," Red murmured, sliding next to Raven, "This way we'll have time to do whatever we want. Right, Raven?"

Three seconds, a blast of dark magic, and a charred mask later, Red jumped to his feet. "Right!" Red yelped, struggling to treat the charred portions of his face. "Let's go help!"

Robin didn't move. He stared down at the street below. The Turmoils lay on the street, occasionally twitching. Wrath was hogtied and gagged, struggling in the backseat of a totaled convertible. The four motorcycles lay on the pavement, engines still running. The streets were silent outside of the occasional groans of the Turmoils and rumble of motorcycle engines. Red peered over the edge of the roof, trying to find whatever Robin was staring at.

"Um, there's nothing there, bro," Red reported, looking at Robin questionably. "There's nothing to stare at."

"Exactly," Robin murmured.

Raven stood up, frowning. "What's the problem?"

"The streets are empty, and the motorcycles are still running," Robin muttered. Red stared at him, uncomprehending, but Raven's eyes widened as she realized what Robin was saying.

"Where are the riders?" Raven realized.

"The better question is," Robin's voice called from behind the trio, "What are you three doing in our city?"

Slowly, the three turned around. Standing behind them, shifting into fighting stances, stood four Robins. These weren't the rough copies the Turmoils had been, but carbon copies. They shared the same faces, hair, all of it. The only difference, of course, was their uniforms. One wore only a simple martial arts tunic, standing in karate fighting stance. Another wore what appeared to be an acrobat's bodysuit, but was armed with Robin's staff. One stood taller than the rest, a Robin with longer, darker hair. Rather than Robin's green and red uniform, the tall one wore a minimalistic black and blue uniform, clutching twin batons, both crackling with electricity. Robin recognized him from Starfire's descriptions of her trip into the future. Future Robin, Nightwing. The fourth stepped forward, the obvious leader of the group. As opposed to the others, this one wore an exact copy of Robin's uniform, minus the tights. Rather, the boy wore a pair of green short shorts, which Robin realized were far too revealing. The leader of the group stepped right up to the real Robin.

"You didn't answer," the leader growled. "How did you get in our city?"

Robin opened his mouth to speak, but, unfortunately, Red spoke first.

"Funny story, actually," Red began. "There I was, innocently sitting in my motel, then BOOM! This little wonder comes in, claiming to be Red-X, with this lovely lady in tow. He begins asking questions about the suicide, and then there was the little riot, halting the conversation. Anything else you want to know?"

The leader of the Robins sneered at Red. "Red. Should have guessed you'd be here. Always find some way to get yourself in trouble. You're not who we were asking, though." The leader of the Robins surveyed Raven and Robin, as if searching for weak points.

"You were searching for the cause of the suicide attempt?" The leader stared at Robin. "What have you found out?"

"Nothing," Robin replied honestly.

The leader's shoulders slumped, giving up his intimidation routine. "Join the club. We've been searching for the last few hours."

The leader turned to the others. "Take five, guys."

The group immediately relaxed, leaning against air ducts and laughing at each other's jokes.

"Who are you?" Robin inquired, surveying the group.

"Don't ask!" The leader pleaded desperately, glancing back at his team, but it was too late.

The group immediately began to shout different names for the team, causing an impossible to understand roar. Robin caught a few of the titles, including "The Dynamic Quartet", "Team Titans", and "The Robin League of America". Robin winced at the terrible titles, and Raven allowed herself a small chuckle.

"Creative bunch, aren't they?" Raven teased as the team began to argue over the team name.

"OKAY!" The leader shouted. "We're the… the Guardians."

The leader was immediately subjected to a wave of booing from his team, protesting the name.

"Subject to change!" The leader exclaimed, glaring at his team. This seemed to please the boys enough to calm them down. The leader then turned back to Robin. "So you're the genuine article, huh?"

Robin shrugged, giving up on his Red-X disguise attempt. "I'm the real deal. This is Raven, by the way. She's helping me find out what the heck is wrong with my brain."

The leader of the group nodded, as if he wasn't surprised by the answer, but Red's mouth dropped open. "Hold up!" Red exclaimed. "I figured out that you weren't one of the emotions, with you acting so strangely, but she's an actual person?" Red poked Raven's arm, as if testing to see if she would disappear. His face broke out into a wide grin. "It's _waaaaay_ less awkward now! I thought, _Hmm, I'm sort of hitting on other parts of Robin's subconscious, that's weird_. Now, though…"

Raven glared at him. "Touch me again, and I'll send you off of this roof."

"Anyway," the leader interrupted, "I'm called Classic. I represent Leadership and Responsibility." Classic gestured towards his team. "I'm sure you know Nightwing, with Starfire's trip to the future and all. He represents Skill and Resolve. The one in the karate gear is named Gi. He represents Discipline and Development. And the one in the acrobat's uniform we call Grayson. He's Motivation and Destiny."

As the boys were introduced, they turned and grinned at Robin, then returned to their normal affairs. Red began an argument with Nightwing and Gi about a debt, and Grayson introduced himself to Raven.

Classic's face grew grim. "We've been searching for the cause of the suicide attempt ever since it occurred. We've tried rounding up the SDS, but we've only found three. Gluttony wasn't in the area at the time, Wrath wasn't exactly cooperative, and I assume Red doesn't know much."

Red squirmed slightly. "Actually…"

Robin stared at him. "All this time, you know what caused the suicide, and you wait until NOW to bring it up?"

Red raised his hands in self-defense. "Hey, I'm sorry, I was a bit, um, distracted." Red glanced at Raven quickly, then back to the two Robins glaring at him. "Anyway, I didn't see much. A big guy, seemed like a man, ran by the motel about twenty minutes before the incident. I didn't think it was important, just thought it was odd. Aren't many men in here. I didn't know he was going to attack Robin from the inside."

"Which way was he running?" Robin and Classic asked simultaneously.

Red thought for a minute, searching his memory. "North," Red decided. "He took a turn, and was heading for the center of the city. That's all I saw, though."

Robin sighed. "Well, at least we know where he, whoever this man is, was heading."

Classic frowned. "City center is the central nervous system. Whoever he was, he must have temporarily hacked in and activated the manual reset. That would have given him five minutes of control. He's probably still at the control center."

Robin grinned. "Finally, we know what's going on. Let's go."

Robin felt happy then, for the first time since the suicide attempt. He finally knew what was going on, and now he had a chance to stop it.

Robin remembered feeling that way, that strange sense of happiness, because, right after that moment of bliss, all Hell broke loose.

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans)

Thanks to all the people reading this, I'm trying my best to keep these chapters updated. I hope you enjoy!


	5. Home Sweet Home

Robin wanted to scream at the night sky. Couldn't he have had ten seconds of peace? Learning that Robin's cause of suicide had not only been identified, but was actually located had been almost to the point of euphoric. Robin finally had some sort of understanding of what was going on, and stopping it was almost within in his reach. But now, everything was falling apart.

Robin peered over the edge of the roof and was greeted with a hail of gunfire. Ducking back onto the roof, Robin cursed himself for his carelessness. During his discussion with Classic, no one had thought to keep an eye on Wrath. No one had remembered the fact that Wrath, as twisted and insane as he was, had experienced the same escape training as the Boy Wonder had. Robin had been so absorbed by his conversation, so desperate to gain some clue to what had happened to him, that he hadn't noticed Wrath had slipped out of his bonds. He hadn't noticed Wrath snatching a rocket launcher from one of his fallen followers. None of the Robins had glanced at him while he was aiming, setting his sights on their group.

None but Raven. Shoving Robin and Classic out of the way, she had thrown up a dark energy barrier across the front of the building. The rocket had ricocheted off of the barrier, spinning into the air and ripping apart a nearby building in the following explosion. There was now a serious dent in the energy shield, but Raven still held the barrier. Wrath had roared in rage, snatching up his fallen assault rifle and emptied several clips of ammo into the energy wall. Usually, Raven's magic would cause the bullets to harmlessly ricochet off of the wall, but the effort of keeping the barrier up was clearly straining her effort. The bullets embedded themselves in the barrier, and some even punched directly through the magic, peppering the rooftop with gunfire. Any moment one bullet might get lucky and catch one of the residents on the roof.

Robin thought about peering over to the edge of the roof again to follow Wrath's position, but then thought better of it. After all, the last thing he needed was to catch a bullet in the forehead.

Apparently some of Wrath's followers weren't as incapacitated as they previously appeared. The sound of low-caliber gunfire crackled, an undertone to the constant chatter of the assault rifle. A couple of jagged pieces of cement and metal were thrown up towards the roof to little effect. Then, some moron found a Molotov cocktail.

The improvised explosive soared in a flaming arc towards the motel roof. For a single, terrifying moment, Robin thought the bottle would sail over Raven's waning barrier. Instead, the explosive shattered against the barrier, coating it with blazing liquid. The barrier lit up as the liquid dribbled downwards, replacing the normal glow of sorcery with the sinister light of flame. Robin automatically began to try to deduce whether it was an alcohol or gasoline flame, and then shook off the problem. It didn't matter if it was one or the other. The only thing that mattered was that Raven didn't drop the shield, or risk the entire rooftop being smothered by the wall of flame.

"Try to hold it, Raven!" Robin shouted, throwing a sonic disk over the building's edge at the raging mob.

Raven's face was lit up a bright crimson by the wall of flame, reflecting off of the sweat dripping down her forehead. "Thanks, Robin. I wouldn't of thought of that," Raven snarled. Robin could tell holding the wall was an incredible burden for her. Having your heart stop, with your powers coming with the same cost, didn't help maintain an already difficult task.

Robin glanced back at the others on the rooftop. The Guardians were following Robin's example, whipping sonic disks and bird-a-rants at the crowd below, while Red was smothering the flames of any Molotov that soared past Raven's defenses. So far, the outlook of the battle was not looking good for the defending team.

Down below, Wrath grinned wickedly, shouldering his assault rifle. "Hate to leave you all at a time like this," Wrath called up to the rooftop, "but I have some pressing engagements."

Strolling over to one of the Guardian's running motorcycles, Wrath climbed on, waving sarcastically at Robin. "Bombs don't set themselves, you know. I bid you adieu."

Wrath roared into the night on the motorcycle, disappearing into the darkness. Robin turned to Classic.

"What does he mean, bomb?" Robin demanded.

Classic swore under his breath. "If Wrath managed to create any type of explosive, he could destroy a significant portion of Robin's mental system."

"In other words," Red muttered, "Wrath could blow your brain to bits."

Robin quickly calculated the direction Wrath was heading. "Northwest," Robin realized. "What's significant in the northwest?"

"The Manor," Nightwing reported, whipping a sonic disk down at the mob. "It contains memories, experiences, everything that makes Robin, well, Robin."

"Meaning," Raven guessed, struggling to keep her energy wall up, "Wrath can effectively wipe out all resistance to whoever is leading Robin's suicide issue."

"Which means Wrath is working with whoever is trying to kill Robin," Grayson concluded, throwing a bird-a-rang at the rioting below.

"How much longer can you hold the shield?" Robin asked Raven desperately.

Raven squeezed her eyes shut tight, forcing all of her concentration into the barrier. "Maybe a minute. No more than two."

Robin nodded, turning towards Red. "Red, you're coming with us. We need to stop Wrath from detonating whatever kind of bomb he has."

Red gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir!"

"We'll be able to hold on when the wall falls," Classic shouted to Robin. "You three go after Wrath, we'll finish up here."

Robin and Raven backed up to the opposite edge of the roof, with Robin dragging Red after them.

"On the count of three," Robin called out. "One… two… THREE!"

Robin and Red dove off of the roof as Raven dropped the shield. The wave of fire cascaded down upon the Guardians, who disappeared under the sea of flame. Robin could only hope they were okay, as he, Red, and Raven landed behind the smoldering motel.

The alley had a thick layer of smoke filling the air, allowing Robin to only barely make out his surroundings. The only noticeable features were the backdoor to the motel, and a graffiti-splattered garage door.

Red groaned slightly, gazing wistfully at the ruined motel. "I just got the soda machine working, too."

"Robin will think up a new one to replace it," Raven replied, glancing around the alley they were in. "Right now, though, we need transportation."

Red smirked. "I have just what we need."

Red walked to the garage door embedded into the back of the building, throwing up the aluminum gate. Sitting inside, among the rusting tool bench and a thick layer of dust, were two motorcycle-like shapes, draped in moth-eaten fabric. Red approached the closer of the two, which appeared to have seen active use, judging from the tracks in the dust. Throwing off the rotting material blanketing the bike, Red revealed a sharp-edged black motorcycle, adorned with an assortment of skulls and red "X" markings.

"Red-X gave this up as collateral for his debt," Red explained with pride. "Silent as night, but as powerful as a… um… something really powerful."

Raven frowned. "That motorcycle only has room for one person, so I assume the other has room for two?"

Red chucked, climbing onto the Red-X motorcycle. "I guess you could say that. I looted it a while back. I'm pretty sure it's still in working condition, assuming you can get it started."

Robin bit back a swear. "Okay, fine. You head after Red. We'll catch up to you," Robin decided.

Red grinned, winking at Raven. "Don't take too long. I get lonely."

Before Raven could respond, Red shot off down the alleyway, following Wrath's trail.

"Hard to believe he's part of your head," Raven muttered, watching Red disappear into the darkness. Robin didn't respond, slowly approaching the other motorcycle as if he was afraid it was about to spontaneously explode. Robin knelt down, pulling up the filthy cloth slightly to get a look at their ride.

"Oh, of course," Robin muttered. "He had to pick this one."

Raven walked over to the bike. "It can't be that bad," Raven said, pulling off the fabric. The two of them stared at the motorcycle for a minute in silence.

"Okay, maybe it can," Raven admitted.

Robin stuck out his fist. "Ro-Sham-Bo for who gets to drive?"

Raven nodded. "I'd rather drive than the alternative," Raven decided, sticking out her fist next to Robin's.

"Okay," Robin muttered, glancing at the motorcycle. Of course Red had to steal _that _motorcycle. "One…two…THREE!"

* * *

The motorcycle roared down the city streets. The bike's shell was jet-black and sleek, with batwing-shaped fins protruding from the rear, behind the seat. The engine was silent enough to disguise itself, but had a loud enough roar to worry anyone it was chasing.

The sidecar, however, wasn't as intimidating. First of all, it was half the size of the motorcycle, obviously meant for a child. Its bright red frame strongly contrasted with the dark style of the motorcycle, not to mention the green wing-shaped highlights along the tiny door of the sidecar. The front was a sharp cone, painted canary yellow and styled to look like a bird's beak. Sitting above the beak were two "eyes", constructed out of palm-sized headlights. To be frank, the sidecar would have looked at home among clown cars and the Oscar Meyer Wienermobile.

Robin grumbled to himself as he sat in the undersized sidecar. "You know, using a finger gun is a cheating," Robin complained, glancing over at Raven, who was steering the less-embarrassing motorcycle.

"Really?" Raven asked sarcastically, whipping around a corner fast enough to almost throw Robin out of his seat. "Tell that to Beast Boy, who you've successfully conned for about two years now. Or Cyborg, when you two were deciding who sits in the front seat of the T-Ship."

Robin fumed. "That was different. Motorcycles are MY thing."

"Then you shouldn't have competed for it," Raven replied.

Robin opened his mouth to reply, found himself without a response, and returned to his pouting, trying not to fall out of the much-too-small sidecar whenever Raven took a turn.

"How much farther until we reach the manor?" Raven asked, scanning the road for any indication they were heading in the right direction.

"Two blocks to the west, one mile north, and across the bridge," Robin responded, banging his head against the side of the motorbike as Raven took a sharp turn. "Where did you learn to drive a motorcycle?"

"You," Raven replied, taking another sharp turn, onto a northern-facing road.

Robin stared at her. "I did?"

Raven sighed. "Robin, you held a seminar on how to drive different kinds of motor vehicles two months ago."

Robin searched his memory, trying to find the event Raven mentioned. "I don't remember doing that."

"You had just upgraded your motorcycle. You were just trying to make an excuse to race the T-Car, rather than teach us."

Robin nodded, remembering the race. He would have won, but Beast Boy had been struggling to control a trashed moped at the finish line, causing a three-way crash. Both the T-Car and motorcycle had to be promptly repaired afterwards. "I guess I still did a decent job teaching?"

Raven allowed herself a small smile. "Actually, I found the owner's manual to your motorcycle. You hadn't done much beyond yelling at Beast Boy for the indention his face had made in your bike."

"It had just been upgraded," Robin mumbled. "Repairs are expensive."

Raven suddenly pulled to a halt, causing Robin to tumble out of the sidecar and onto the pavement.

"I assume that's the manor?" Raven asked, staring across the bridge ahead.

Robin glanced up, rubbing his rapidly bruising head. The mansion ahead wouldn't look out of place in a film about the Dark Ages. The foundation consisted of dark bricks, supporting an intricate layout consisting of stone courtyards, gardens that had obviously had been unattended for months, and several-story buildings. The enormous oak doors stood behind a rusted gate, with twin stone gargoyles perched on nearby pedestals. A crumbling fountain stood in the main courtyard, engraved with almost unreadable words. Some of the letters were eroded to the point of illegibility, and the others were almost to that point. The fountain currently read "W_YN_ M_NOR".

"Home sweet home," Robin muttered to himself, getting to his feet. Then he grinned at Raven. "Stopping a madman from detonating a bomb. It's almost starting to feel like normal."

* * *

The manor had obviously been without a housekeeper for a while. The hardwood floors were covered by almost an inch of dust, and, according to the cobwebs, spiders had claimed the building as their own. The grand staircase in the entry room had lost its grand status, with rotting steps and broken handrails. The furniture in the room was mostly broken, and the few that weren't were sagging, threatening to give way at any moment. A still-glittering chandelier dangled over the entry hall, but was still falling into disrepair along with the rest of the room.

Raven surveyed the decrepit surroundings with mild interest. "Surprising," Raven said quietly.

Robin glanced over at her. "Should I ask what's surprising, or are you going to tell me anyway?"

Raven glared at him. "Funny. As I was going to say, memories are often stored in areas where they can be readily accessed. It could be as complicated as one of Fort Knox's vaults, filled with journals, or as simple as a computer with a search system. This building doesn't appear to have any evidence of memories accessible, though."

Robin shrugged. "Honestly, I'm beyond caring about any of this," Robin admitted. "I just want to find whatever's hacked my brain and get out of here before someone gets hurt."

Raven glanced at the floor. "Looks like Red had the same idea," Raven commented.

Robin stared at her, confused. "What?"

"Look at the footprints," Raven explained, gesturing towards the prints clearly visible in the dust. "Only one set. Unless Red decided to climb the walls instead of walking, it looks like he decided to ditch us."

Robin clenched his fists. "I can't even rely on my own subconscious?"

"So far, your subconscious has tried to kill you, kick you off a building, start a riot, tried to kill you again, and murder other parts of your subconscious," Raven pointed out. "I'm pretty sure you shouldn't put a lot of trust in the residents of your brain."

Robin halfheartedly glared at Raven. "Must you ridicule every sentence that comes out of my mouth?"

"Only if you stop making it so easy," Raven replied.

Robin shook his head. "Anyway, we need to follow Wrath. Where do you think he'd detonate a bomb?"

Raven frowned. "Most likely a root memory."

"Ah, yes," Robin mumbled. "A root memory. I probably should know what that is."

Raven sighed. "And you ask why I ridicule your comments. Robin, a root memory is a certain event which forever impacted your future decisions. A memory that, if it hadn't occurred, would have sent you in a completely different direction with your life."

"You're going to need to be a tad more specific," Robin commented.

"Fine. A memory that, without which, none of the other memories would be here."

Robin nodded. "Okay, but we still don't know where the memories actually ARE in this manor."

Raven glanced around the main room. "Did you ever consider actually opening a door?"

Robin looked down sheepishly. "Okay, maybe that slipped my mind."

Robin surveyed the room carefully, resting his gaze on the closest door. As he approached it, Robin noted that the door wasn't as decrepit as the rest of the manor, with shining hinges and fresh, smooth wood. Robin wrapped his hand around the doorknob and tested to see whether the lock was in place. It wasn't. Slowly, Robin pulled open the door a few inches, just enough to listen for anyone in the room.

"Did you ever consider actually opening a door?" Raven asked sarcastically.

Robin turned around to glare back at her. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

To Robin's surprise, Raven stared at him with a confused look on her face. "It looks like you're opening a door," Raven replied, puzzled.

Robin was about to snap at her for being overly sarcastic when he heard his own voice saying, "Okay, maybe that slipped my mind."

Robin turned back to the door and pulled it completely open. In the next room sat an exact replica of manor, complete with Robin and Raven. The room didn't seem clear, though. Robin was reminded of an old film, and the grainy images that were projected by it. That's how the room and the two residents appeared: grainy and plagued by static. As Robin watched, the replica Robin walked over to a nearby door, tested the lock, and pulled the door open slightly.

"Never mind," Robin muttered, shutting the door. "Turns out my memories are live-action."

Raven nodded, as if she wasn't surprised by the strange comment. "So your memories are stored in separate rooms," Raven mused. "If they are sorted chronologically, the root memory should be pretty easy to find."

And so they went. Robin wasn't particularly keen to show off any of the memories locked behind the aging doors, but occasionally he was forced to peer into a room, just to make sure they were heading in the right direction. Raven didn't see the contents of most of the rooms, but whenever a door was opened, explosions, gunfire, desperate shouting, crazed laughter, or something of the sort often bled out into the hallway. Raven had to agree with what Cyborg had mentioned earlier: whatever was going on in Robin's mind, she didn't want any part of it.

Robin didn't seem fazed by whatever was contained within the memories, but he made an effort not to leave any of the doors opened. When Raven had tried to glance into a room Robin had spent a considerable amount of time staring into, he had shut the door and muttered, "What happened in the past stays in the past."

After what seemed like hours, the two found themselves inside a large dining area. Strangely, this room only had one door. Most hallways had several doors in each wall, and some even had doors in the ceiling, but this room contained but a single door, on the far side of the room. Faint carnival music played behind the door, along with the cheering of an enthusiastic crowd. In the otherwise silent dining room, the soft music seemed deafening. Crouched at the base of the door, Wrath hurriedly connected wires to a large aluminum suitcase. He paused as Robin and Raven entered the room.

"I wondered when you two were going to show up," Wrath chuckled, his back still to the duo. "I thought this was going to be too easy."

Robin immediately drew his iron staff, and Raven summoned enough magic to coat her hands with dark energy.

Wrath stood up, stretching. "What, no banter? No 'you won't succeed, foul villain' quotes? I had my monologue prepared and everything."

Robin glared at him. "What do you even think you're doing? Blowing up my memories would mean the end of all things that make up this area, including you."

Wrath chuckled. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? The problem is, I have my safety assured by the leader. When Robin and all those idiotic Guardians go down, I'll be perfectly preserved, along with all those who join the leader."

Raven launched a missile of dark energy towards Wrath, who calmly sidestepped, allowing the energy to shoot past his head and burst against the wall.

"Really, sorceress, try to be less predictable," Wrath chuckled, drawing a staff identical to Robin's. "Even Ignorance could have seen that one coming."

Raven glared at Wrath, preparing another blast of magic. "Your safety is assured? Who could possibly save you from blowing yourself up?"

Wrath chuckled. "You'd like me to tell you, wouldn't you? Who do you suspect? Come on, tell me. Do you suspect Control Freak? The HIVE? Red-X? Slade?"

Robin winced at the last guess, which Wrath noticed. "Hit a nerve, did I?" Wrath chuckled. "Ah, you'll probably find out soon enough. Well, Robin will."

Raven narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, Robin will?"

Wrath laughed, launching himself towards Robin. Robin brought up his staff to deflect, sending them both tumbling into the manor hallway. Raven immediately began running towards the explosive, but screeched to a halt when a bird-a-rang engraved with the mark of Slade impaled itself in the wall directly in front of her.

"Ah, ah, girlie," Wrath scolded from the hallway, still locked in mortal combat with Robin. "That bomb's on a timer, plus a proximity sensor. If you get any closer, the bomb will detonate prematurely, vaporizing all of us."

Robin jabbed at Wrath with his staff, and, surprisingly, he made contact. Robin's staff cracked against Wrath's chin, causing the latter to stagger backwards down the hallway. Wrath rubbed his bleeding chin carefully, his crocodile grin returning.

"Not bad, kid," Wrath chuckled, gripping his staff tightly. "Now it's my turn."

Wrath dove at Robin, attacking with a fury that caused Robin to stumble backwards, desperately deflecting Wrath's wild blows. Wrath's crocodile grin only expanded as he attacked, fighting like a madman. Occasionally, he would attempt to stab Robin with a Slade-a-rang, missing the mark by mere inches. This wasn't some warm-up, Robin noted. Wrath was playing for keeps.

The fight was suddenly interrupted as a blast of dark energy sent Wrath spinning down the hallway, throwing him ten yards before he crashed into a wall. Raven held up her energy-coated hands, her eyes glowing white. A small energy bubble encased Wrath, causing him to be trapped in a tiny, 2' by 2' cage. Wrath shook his head, clearing his head.

"Good move, sorceress," Wrath chuckled. "But you can't expect this playpen to hold me for long."

"It won't," Raven promised. "Only long enough for you to tell us what you know, or run out of oxygen. Whichever comes first."

Wrath shrugged, unfazed by his situation. "Fine. You want to know what's going on? You aren't going to reach the leader."

Robin glared at him, sheathing his staff. "What do you mean, we won't reach him?"

Wrath chuckled. "Oh, you might, Boy Wonder, but Raven won't."

Raven's eyes narrowed, the white glow beginning to fade. "What do you mean?"

"He's bluffing," Robin interrupted, glancing around the room nervously. "There's no way-"

"Oh, you know there's a way, Robin," Wrath laughed darkly. "After all, you're the one planning it."

Robin glared at Wrath with enough hatred to blast him to bits. "Shut up!" Robin hissed, trying to keep himself from shouting. "I'm not planning anything!"

Wrath laughed within his prison. "Don't try to talk your way out of this, kid," Wrath taunted. "I'm part of your mind. I know exactly what you're planning to do to Raven. Couldn't have planned it better myself."

Raven turned to Robin slowly, allowing her hands to droop the tiniest bit. "Robin, what is he talking about?"

Wrath chose that moment to strike. He immediately drew a handgun from a concealed holster, firing three bullets into the bubble. Normally, the bullets would bounce wildly within the bubble before striking Wrath, but Raven's concentration had wavered. The three rounds smashed through the shield like it was made of glass, almost striking Raven in the process. Robin drew his staff as quickly as he could, but it was too late. Wrath casually swung his assault rifle off his back and aimed it at the two Titans in front of him.

"You know, I didn't want to use this earlier," Wrath commented calmly, holding the gun perfectly steady. "It would have just made things too easy."

Wrath chuckled, studying the drying blood on the barrel of the gun. "Well, times change. Who wants to taste lead first?"

"Just give me a second to finish my burrito."

Wrath stared at the two in front of him, confused. "Burrito?"

Robin glanced over his shoulder. Leaning in the doorframe of the dining pavilion, munching on Mexican food while surveying the carnage in the hallway, stood none other than Red.

_What is it with Mexican food_, Robin thought. _Does my subconscious have some sort of drive-through taco place? _

As if answering Robin's question, Red held up a takeout bag labeled "Wayne's Taco and Burrito Hut", which was stuffed with food. "Picked up a snack on the way," Red explained. "Took a bit longer than I expected. What did I miss?"

Wrath growled. "Red. I hope you're here to join me. The other five members of the SDS have already decided to aid the leader, along with myself. You're the only one who is still undecided."

"Oh, I'm not undecided," Red corrected, drawing a paper-wrapped burrito out of the takeout bag. He held it up, offering it to the bewildered people around him. "No one wants it? Your loss." Red began to unwrap the meal, taking a small taste.

"Are you helping me or him?" Robin asked angrily. "Enough with the burritos!"

Red stopped, burrito halfway to his mouth. "I'm not helping Wrath," Red answered calmly. "But I'm not joining you, either."

"What are you doing here, then?" Wrath snarled.

Red chucked. "Well, I go after whatever pleases me at the moment. And right now, Robin happens to be in the company of a very pleasing item."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Spare me."

Red shrugged. "Like it or not, I'm staying with you, even if that means helping Robin. And hurting whoever tries to harm you."

Wrath laughed. "Okay, then, Romeo. Hurt me. Shoot me with one of Cupid's arrows, or attack me with a bouquet. I have a freaking assault rifle."

Red shrugged indifferently, reaching into the takeout bag once more. This time, however, he didn't pull out a burrito. Wrath didn't even have time to fire a round from his assault rifle before Red fired four bullets into Wrath's right shoulder. Wrath spun to the ground, yelling in pain. Red calmly reloaded his salsa-covered handgun, walking slowly towards Wrath, pushing past the stunned Robin and Raven.

Wrath continued to thrash on the ground in agony. He reached in vain for his assault rifle, but Red kicked the barrel, sending it spinning down the hallway.

"I thought- I thought you were just-" Wrath stuttered, his face contorted in agony.

"What, you thought Love was just a pretty face and sly wit?" Red asked, kneeling next to Wrath. Red slid his gun into his utility belt, drawing instead his staff, identical to those of Wrath and Robin. "Love hurts, moron." Red held the staff above Wrath, whose eyes were filled with terror.

"Go to Hell."

Red swung his staff downwards. Robin heard the bones in Wrath's face shatter, and Wrath's cries of agony immediately ceased. Red stood up, glancing at the stunned Robin and Raven.

"So…" Red asked nonchalantly, holding up his Mexican takeout. "Who wants tacos?"

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans) Thanks to everyone following this, I'll update soon!


	6. Betrayal

Salsa and blood. Not a good combination. Robin stared down at the tablecloth-covered corpse before him. A few drops of salsa had fallen out of Red's burrito when Wrath had been murdered, which were now being mixed with the blood leaking out from under the cloth.

_Murder_, Robin thought. _Does it count as murder_ _if a part of your subconscious_ _kills_ _another_?

Robin shook off the idea. If a once-living creature was killed by another, it's murder. That was what he had been taught since he was a child. Apparently, though, his mind's residents had no qualms slaying one another.

"Calling Boy Wonder. Earth to Robin. You there, man?"

Robin glanced up from the corpse in the hallway, looking back towards the other residents of the dining room. Red waved towards him, holding the last burrito from his takeout bag.

"Pay attention, kid. Last burrito. You want it?" Red asked, tossing the empty bag into a nearby wastebasket.

Robin's stomach churned. Right now, the last thing he wanted was food. The strangest fact, however, was Red's face. Red still wore the same grinning, happy-go-lucky expression he had shown when he first appeared. He seemed oblivious to the fact the murder in the hallway was caused by his own hand, bullets fired from his own gun. At first, Robin had simply been annoyed by Red, both by his obvious flirting with Raven and his carefree demeanor. Now, though, Robin wasn't so sure. Red was completely unfazed by the killing, writing it off as "protecting Raven". Robin had deeper suspicions, though. Red's unwavering attitude, his desperate attraction towards Raven, and his calmly executed act of murder could either make Red an ally or a madman.

Robin stood up from his chair. "No thanks, Red," Robin muttered. "I'm just going to grab something to drink." Robin turned to Raven, who was yanking at the wires of the bomb. "You want anything, Raven? Water? Soda?"

"I'll have a root beer," Red supplied, munching on his final burrito.

"I didn't ask you," Robin growled.

"Just some tea, if you can," Raven mumbled, extracting components from the explosive carefully.

Robin nodded, strolling into the next room. The dining pavilion had a kitchen built directly next to it, which was, surprisingly, stocked with fresh food. Robin snatched a random soda for Red out of a nearby refrigerator, and grabbed a glass for himself, holding it under the kitchen sink. After taking a long gulp of the cold water, Robin carefully pulled a teacup out of a porcelain cabinet, and filled it with hot water. He then placed a teabag, retrieved from a nearby cupboard, into the cup.

"One sugar or two?" Robin called out into the dining room.

"As many as you can cram in there," Red called back, swallowing his burrito.

"Once again, that wasn't directed at you," Robin snapped. "Raven? Did you hear me?"

"No sugar," Raven called back. "It ruins concentration."

Robin ignored her, reaching for a nearby bowl of sugar cubes. Then he stopped, pushing the bowl away. Instead, he drew a white cube from his belt, dropping it into Raven's tea.

"Some sugar is not going to kill you," Robin chuckled, bringing out the tea. He tossed the can of soda at Red, who, oblivious to the flying can, was smacked in the side of the head by the flying aluminum drink.

"Hey!" Red cried. "What was…look, are you angry about something? I'm sorry I was late, but hunger called. I still showed up in time to save your butts."

Robin placed the tea next to Raven carefully, and then turned to face Red. "Listen, I know you're trying to help," Robin said slowly, struggling to keep his voice under control. "But what you just did was not acceptable. You can't just murder people because they're against you."

"I already told you," Red replied, popping the lid on his soda. "I'm going to protect Raven at all costs. Wrath was pointing a gun at both of your heads, and, unless I'm mistaken, he wasn't going to hesitate. You should be thanking me, but, honestly, the only reason I saved your skin was to preserve my own existence. Raven is the only person I care about saving."

"Lucky me," Raven muttered, cutting the final wire in the bomb. She stood up, wiping the dust off of her cloak. "The bomb's defused," Raven announced. "Looks like Wrath was lying about the proximity detector."

Red snickered, taking another sip of his soda. "Right. He was working on it as soon as you entered the room. If there was a proximity detector, he would have been blown sky-high."

Robin glared at him, still unnerved by Red's flippant approach to murder. "We were fighting him, we didn't exactly have time to check the explosive's specifics."

Red shrugged. "Yeah, but still. Anyway, you're the one with training on how to defuse a bomb. Why did you make the lady do it?"

Raven glared at him. "First of all, stop referring to me as _the lady_. Second, Robin trained each of the Titans how to dispose of a bomb. I'm doing it so Robin isn't tempted to commit suicide again."

Robin frowned. "I wasn't in control at the time of the, um, incident. You can't keep blaming me for that."

Red chuckled. "It came from your head, kid. Who else can you blame? The different sides of your personality? Complain to Wrath when he wakes up."

"We're not going to be here all week," Robin growled. "We're heading out in just a minute."

"All week? You have about thirty minutes before Wrath wakes up," Red laughed.

Robin and Raven froze. Slowly, Robin glanced back out at the motionless corpse in the hallway. "I thought you said Mourning would take a week to wake up after he died."

Red shrugged. "You don't rely on Mourning much, so he doesn't need to rush. Wrath is constantly called upon, not to mention the fact he is one of the SDS. He's only out of commission for an hour, tops."

Raven glared at him. "You only wait until NOW to tell us this?"

Red raised his hands defensively. "Well, the subject never came up. What did you expect? It wasn't necessary to say until now."

Raven began walking towards the door. "Why are we still here, then? The bomb can't be set back up, so our work is done here."

Robin quickly followed her, snatching her teacup off of the ground. "Wait, you didn't drink your tea!" Robin protested.

Raven was almost to the door when she stopped. Without looking back, she called over her shoulder, "Red, how long until Wrath wakes up?"

Red tossed his soda can into the wastebasket. "Twenty or so minutes, unless Robin is feeling especially wrathful."

Raven stepped away from the door, walking back to the dining table. "Fine," Raven muttered, pulling out a chair. "Ten minutes. But only to ask Robin two questions."

Robin flinched, setting the teacup down next to Raven. He took the seat across from her. "Okay," Robin muttered. "Two questions."

Raven held up one of her fingers. "First question," Raven began. "Why didn't you feel pain when Wrath was, well, killed?"

Robin sighed in relief. Not the question he was expecting, but still answerable. "Well, I did feel some pain. A sharp stab, like a knife wound. I guess I was used to it," Robin explained. Not the whole truth, but enough.

Raven nodded as if she had expected the answer, taking a long sip of her tea. "Second question," Raven continued. "What was Wrath talking about when he said you had a plan for me?"

Robin's breath caught in his throat. _Damn_, he thought, _I thought she might have forgotten about that_.

Across the table, Red chuckled. "Come on, kid," Red taunted. "Tell her about the plan."

Raven glanced over at Red, who had thrown his feet up upon the table. "You know what Robin is planning?" Raven asked, suspicious.

Red nodded. "Each emotion that it involves knows about this little plan. Wrath, me, Impulse, Cunning, and, most of all, Pride."

Robin swore again under his breath. Red was giving it all away! Robin forced himself to calm down. Only another minute or two. Then it wouldn't matter if Red gave it away.

Raven finished her tea. "So, when was Robin going to enact this plan? And what was he planning in the first place?"

Red began to answer, glanced at Robin, then chuckled. Soon the chuckle began to grow louder, escalating until Red was clutching his sides, laughing hysterically.

"Was I being funny?" Raven asked, her voice dripping with venom.

Red wiped some tears from his eyes, still laughing. "You know, you should have asked that question first," Red giggled.

Raven's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Robin's plan started about two minutes ago," Red laughed.

Raven's eyes widened, and switched her gaze to Robin, who was sitting across from her, perfectly calm. He didn't seem to be holding any kind of weapon, and he hadn't left her sight, except when he had prepared the drinks.

The tea.

Raven quickly looked down at her drink. The powder she had assumed to be sugar still coated the inside of the teacup. Running her finger across the inside of the cup, Raven immediately examined the small white grains. Much to small to be sugar.

Suddenly, Raven realized what Robin had done. "You son of a-"

Raven was interrupted as her whole world appeared to tilt. She struggled to get up from her chair, but her knees immediately gave out beneath her. Raven attempted to grab the table for support, but only managed to drag the teacup to the floor along with her. Raven tried to push herself back up, but the drug's effects were too strong. Her vision faded to black almost immediately, but she remained conscious. Raven heard Robin stand up from the table, walking over to kneel beside her.

"I'm really, really sorry, Raven," Robin whispered. "You've almost died twice. I don't want you to be killed when you were trying to help me."

Robin's voice was sincere; apparently he really didn't want anything to happen to her. Right now, though, Raven was more focused on the fact that he had drugged her. She tried to speak, probably to curse Robin, but her tongue had seemed to swell in her mouth, making speech impossible. She felt Robin touch her forehead lightly, and then she lost all sense of feeling. Her hearing began to fade immediately after, and soon enough, Raven blacked out.

* * *

Robin waited until Raven passed out, carefully monitoring her vital signs. Getting to his feet, Robin adjusted his belt. He was being truthful when he told Raven he was sorry. Normally, he didn't have much of a problem leading his team into danger. His training focused on the worth of the team, not the individual members. This time, though, it was different. Raven would have undoubtedly refused to stay at the manor if he had simply asked her. Whether or not that made her determined or stubborn, Robin didn't want to risk Raven getting hurt again. Fighting a criminal or a madman, there wasn't much Robin could do to protect Raven. Here, however, in his own mind, whatever happened to Raven was Robin's fault and his alone. She had almost been killed twice, both because of either Robin's or his emotion's actions, and if she was to die, Robin didn't think he would be able to forgive himself.

Robin thoughts were interrupted by a slow round of applause. Glancing across the table, Robin saw Red on his feet, clapping sarcastically.

"Congratulations," Red said, slowly walking over to where Robin stood. "You successfully drugged your only ally."

Robin immediately switched into a fighting stance, instinctively drawing his staff. Red stared at him, bewildered.

"Kid, what on Earth are you doing?" Red asked, confused.

Robin slowly returned to his normal stance. "You're not…you're not going to attack because I drugged Raven?"

"Nah, don't feel like it." Red knelt down, examining the unconscious Raven. "Besides, you had a point. I don't want Raven getting hurt, either. At least this way, she'll be out of danger."

Robin sighed in relief. "Good. I thought you were going to try and throttle me."

"I'm actually considering the idea," Red admitted, looking back up at Robin. "I don't need any competition."

Robin stared back at him, puzzled. "What do you mean? We're on the same side."

Red grinned. "C'mon, lover boy. We both know about your little crush on Raven."

Robin glanced away, uncomfortable. "Don't be ridiculous."

Red shrugged. "Whatever. But think; if Cyborg came with you, instead of Raven, would you have dropped a drug into his motor oil?"

"Of course not," Robin replied automatically. "By the rules of this…um…world, Cyborg's powers wouldn't risk harming him."

Red shrugged again. "Just watch it. It's hard enough to seduce Raven without the Boy Wonder competing." Glancing out into the hallway, Red gestured to Wrath's corpse. "You want me to take care of that?"

Robin nodded. "The last thing I need is another sin chasing me. Anyway, just promise to keep Raven out of danger."

Red chuckled. "Hey, remember that we were a Boy Scout."

"I was always to busy to go to the campouts," Robin grumbled.

Red rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Fine, I promise, birdboy. Now go before Wrath wakes up from his nap."

Robin nodded, and began walking towards the hallway, but then stopped. Without turning around he asked, "Red, you're the representative of Love?"

Red nodded silently.

"Then you know about my feelings towards Starfire, don't you?"

Red chuckled. "Kid, I dictate those feelings." Red grinned, and, for a moment, he shared the same crocodile grin Wrath was famous for. "But sometimes my attention wanders."

Robin walked out into the hallway silently. Red listened until he heard the mansion doors slam shut, then turned his attention back to the unconscious Raven. Her face seemed to be a strange mixture of anger and peaceful slumber. Beautiful, in it's own way.

"Sometimes I get distracted," Red whispered, studying the girl lying on the floor, "but sometimes I've felt a certain way for a long, long time."

* * *

Strangely, Raven's first thought was about the teacup. Had it shattered when it hit the floor? And why did the teacup begin to fall in the first place? Raven remembered grabbing the table as she collapsed, but why had she collapsed? Something about the teacup…

Suddenly, Raven's memories of Robin's actions came flooding back. She immediately sat up, and was greeted by a piercing headache. Clutching her forehead, Raven vowed to herself that the next time she saw that neon-colored uniform, she would force it's wearer to eat one of his own bird-a-rangs. Glancing around the room, Raven suddenly realized she was no longer in the dining room. She was sitting on a queen-sized bed, in an otherwise empty room. Scratch that. There was a small nightstand next to the bed. Getting unsteadily to her feet, Raven noticed a small photograph sitting on the nightstand. It was a black-and-white snapshot of Robin. Apparently he hadn't been wearing a mask in the photo, because someone had scribbled a crude representation of the mask onto the portrait's eyes. Raven's eyes glowed black for a moment, and the photo burst into black flames, melting the cheap frame it was displayed within.

"The next time I see that scrawny, tight-wearing, stoplight-colored moron," Raven muttered to herself, making her way to the door, "I'm going to-"

Raven's torture plan was interrupted by a sudden howl of agony in the next room over, echoing throughout the hallway. That was Robin's voice.

Raven immediately threw open her door and approached the door to the room to her left. Surprisingly, the door had been jammed shut by a wooden chair, and the door shook as some beat at the frame frantically.

"Red!" Robin's voice shouted furiously. "When I get out of here, you're going to wish you'd never been created! You better not have put a scratch on my assault rifle, or I'm going to-"

The voice was cut off as Raven placed a simple SILENCE enchantment onto the room. Not enough to damage her fragile magic supply, but enough to stop the irritating descriptions of mutilation and torture. Apparently Red had found a place to store Wrath.

Raven continued down the hallway quietly, occasionally glancing around to make sure Red wasn't nearby. The last thing she wanted right now was to be harassed by Red again while attempting to leave the manor. After a few minutes of wandering, Raven found herself back in the main entry hall. In addition to the rotting furniture, it appeared Red had added a small television to the wall, and repositioned one of the molding couches in order to face said television. Raven could just barely see the top of Red's hair from behind the sofa, but could very clearly see the assault rifle leaning against the armrest of the couch.

Red was muttering to himself as he flipped through the channels on the television. Strangely, only one of the five channels available had any video, and a different channel had the only sound. The other three appeared to be simply static and a crackly audio.

"No, no, this won't do," Red mumbled. "What about this? No, it still hasn't changed. Oh, woe."

Raven had to stop herself from chuckling. "Oh, woe"? What time period was Red from, the 15th century?

Raven slowly made her way towards the manor doors, making an effort to be as quiet as possible.

She was sure she hadn't made any sound, but Red stiffened. "Raven?" Red asked warily. "Have you awoken?"

Raven swore under her breath. Of course Red had to notice her. Raven braced herself for the impending attempts at seduction. Red clicked off the television and got to his feet. Raven blinked. Was it just her imagination, or had Red gotten…shorter? His costume seemed to be changed, as well. As opposed to the blood-red and black ensemble, Red now wore a bright red and white uniform, which clung to his short body.

"Raven? That is you, is it not?" Red stared at her, or at least in her general direction. "You woke?"

Raven bit her lip. Apparently there was more to Red than met the eye. "Y-yes. It's me," Raven sighed. No point in trying to be stealthy now.

Red's face broke out into a wide grin. "Raven! Oh, I'm so glad you woke up!" Surprisingly, that statement sounded joyful and filled with relief, as opposed to Red's usual irritating attitude.

"Red? You look…well, different," Raven commented.

Red looked down at himself, self-conscious. "Does my costume look funny? I've never actually seen it."

"No, you're…shorter."

Red's face lit up with understanding. "Oh, forgive me, I forgot. I am the other side of Red's personality. We combined during the 'Great Fadeout', you know. And please, let me apologize for my other side's brutish behavior. I cannot understand where he picks it up."

Raven blinked. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't know."

Red shrugged. "I guess the other me was too rude to tell you." Red extended his hand, smiling. "Well, let's start again. My name is Red. It's very nice to meet you."

Raven stared at his hand for a moment, and then shook it. "My name's Raven. Enchanted."

Red beamed as if he had just won the lottery. "The pleasure is all mine."

The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment. "Well," Raven said, breaking the silence, "I really should be going."

Raven turned towards the door, but Red scrambled in front of the door, throwing out his arms to keep her from passing. "You can't go!" Red protested. "I promised!"

Raven sighed. She had expected something like this to happen. "Robin made you promise not to let me leave the manor?"

Red nodded. "I vowed to keep you out of danger."

Raven thought for a moment. It would be relatively easy to simply push the pipsqueak out of the way with a little blast of magic, but, at this point, Raven couldn't risk any nonessential magic usage. Anyway, attacking one of the few emotions still allied with Robin would probably be a bad idea. Twisting Robin's words, however, was still a viable option.

"Red, what exactly did Robin make you promise?" Raven asked carefully.

Red's face scrunched up as he tried to remember Robin's exact wording. "He said…he said to promise to keep Raven out of danger."

Raven sighed in relief. That promise was much easier to work around than if he promised to keep her in the manor. "So he specifically ordered you to keep me out of danger, and worded it exactly that way?"

Red nodded, smiling. "Exactly."

"And Robin proceeded to leave the manor, presumably to chase whoever is meddling with his mind."

"Yes."

"Thus, he left without me, hampering his fighting ability severely in any fights he may encounter."

Red shifted uncomfortably. "I-I guess."

"So, say Robin is to die in combat. That would wipe out all traces of his mind, including this manor, along with all of its occupants."

Red frowned, beginning to recognize where this was going. "Well, there's no real proof-"

"That would wipe out my existence as well," Raven interrupted. "Which, in essence, puts me in significant danger if I am to be in this manor if Robin falls in combat."

Red flinched. "H-hold on a second-"

"Thus, all measures must be taken to keep Robin alive in battle. So, in theory, the safest place I could be is next to Robin in combat, so the chances of his demise are drastically reduced. Am I wrong?"

Red frowned. "Well, no…but you'd still be…no, you countered that, maybe you'd be…" Red continued to mutter to himself, trying to find a hole in Raven's argument. Fortunately for Raven, debating had never been one of Red's strong suits. Finally, Red's shoulders slumped. "Aw, man. Robin will kill me if he finds out."

Raven gave him a small smile. "It's not your fault. Robin should have given you more specific instructions." Raven glanced at the assault rifle leaning against the couch. "I assume you took care of Wrath?"

Red revealed a crocodile grin similar to Wrath's. "Before he woke up, I rolled his body into one of Robin's memory rooms. Right now, he's living in a repeated loop of Robin's encounter with Larry."

Wrath's cries of agony echoed down the hallway. "Oh, God, someone just make it stop! This is cruel and unusual!"

Raven nodded, recalling how Larry's irritating drive to heal Robin's broken arm led to all of Jump City turning into an accurate representation of a child's coloring book. Not exactly a memory worth living in, especially for a sadist of Wrath's caliber. "Anyway, are the motorbikes still out on the bridge?"

Red nodded. "He borrowed my X-Bike, but the other one should still be there."

Raven sighed. At least Robin hasn't thought to get rid of the other bike. Raven immediately walked through the manor doors, contemplating exactly how she was going to punish Robin for drugging her. The real punishment would have to wait until the two of them escaped Robin's madhouse mind. For now, though, bumping him off of the side of a building didn't seem to be such a bad alternative.

Upon reaching the bridge, Raven came to a sudden stop. Apparently, Robin had given some thought to how Raven might escape. The tires on the black motorcycle were not only slashed beyond repair, but the steering column had also been ripped out, smashed, and scattered across the bridge. Even the wheels of the sidecar were missing, as if Raven might have planned to ride it into town like a cart. Raven cursed her misfortune. Of all the members of the Titans, why did she have to be stranded in Robin's mind, the one person who actually thought most of his plans through? Raven searched the perimeter of the entire manor for any kind of vehicle, but every type of transport she managed to find had already been recently dismantled by the Boy Wonder. Even the rusty bicycle Raven found buried in the bushes had lost its tires to Robin's bird-a-rang. _Okay_, Raven thought to herself, working her way back to the manor's front entrance, _maybe pushing Robin off of a building is a bit too mild_.

Raven closed the massive door behind her, and, as if on cue, the sky erupted with a burst of thunder. Rain came pouring down in buckets, and enough lightning crackled in the clouds to discourage Raven from even thinking about flying. Red still sat on the moldy couch, watching the blank TV screen. Raven approached the sofa and leaned on the back cushions, studying the television. There was no audio or video projecting, but, for some strange reason, Raven could sense a projection of energy around the screen. Finally, raven noticed the scent. The area around the television smelled of rain and…tar?

Raven glanced down at Red curiously. "What are you watching?"

Red chuckled. "Watching? Nothing, actually." Red waved his hand in front of his mask. "Blind as a bat, they say. I'm just, well, _experiencing _the SV."

Raven stared at him curiously. "SV?" Red flipped the channel, and, while there was still no audio or video, the scent of rain and tar immediately vanished. Instead, Raven felt the palms of her hands scrape against rubber, like the type used in the grips of motorcycle handles. It felt as though rain was slapping her face, and wind screamed in her ears. Red casually flipped the channel again, and the feeling vanished. Raven stared at Red, who showed no indication that anything strange had just happened. "Care to explain what just happened?" Raven asked, adjusting her wind-blown hood.

Red glanced back at her, confused. "What do you mean?" Then he glanced down at the remote in his hands and laughed, as if he had forgotten it was there. "Oh, right. You don't know what the SV is. Well, the abbreviation stands for Sense Vision. It is similar to a normal television, except it connects to each of Robin's five senses."

"Touch, Taste, Smell, Sight, and Sound," Raven noted. "So the wind and rain was probably his sense of touch. The tar came from smell, of course. I assume the other three channels link to the other three senses."

Red nodded. "I don't use the sight channel often. It's nearly useless to a blind fellow like me. You might find something interesting, though."

Red picked up the remote, flipping to the next channel. A rain-splattered video popped up onto the screen, and Raven realized the screen was portraying what Robin was currently seeing. Almost nothing was visible through the buckets of rain, but Raven occasionally caught a glimpse of a building corner, or sometimes the side of an apartment complex. Finally, a street sign flashed through the field of vision. It disappeared almost as soon as it appeared, but Raven managed to read the inscription. WAYSIDE DRIVE.

Raven immediately turned to Red, who was waiting patiently for Raven to finish her observations. "Is there anything noteworthy on Wayside Drive?" Raven asked quickly, startling Red.

Red stroked his chin, thinking. "Hmm…I don't think so. Except there is a rumor that the Guardians use one of the buildings as a base."

"Robin must be trying to find the team," Raven concluded. "He knows he can't take on whatever hijacked his mind by himself."

Red nodded. "I guess. And with almost all the vehicles here dismantled, you can't go after him."

Raven began to nod, and then caught herself as she found the error in Red's statement. "Almost all?" Raven inquired, looking down at the blind boy beneath her.

Red flinched, realizing he had let loose too much information. "I-I meant ALL!" Red stuttered, frantically trying to cover his mistake. "Robin DEFINITELY slashed all the tires, and, and dismantled, and, and…"

Red trailed off as he tried desperately to take back his last statement. Raven stared at him in absolute calm. "What vehicle did Robin not disassemble?" Raven asked carefully, staring at the flustered Red.

Red flinched as he tried to avoid Raven's gaze. "I can't…I'm not allowed to tell you. I'll get in trouble."

Raven knelt down next to Red, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. "Please?" Raven asked softly.

Red's resistance crumbled, and he glanced away from Raven, blushing. "Well," Red mumbled, "I guess there is one vehicle."

Raven gave him a small smile, which only caused Red to blush a deeper shade of crimson. Red then explained to Raven how to access the one ride in the manor Robin hadn't touched. After Red finished his instructions, Raven nodded.

"I'm not surprised he didn't touch that one," Raven admitted. "I'm just surprised that it's here."

Red nodded. "A couple of the emotions tried to loot it, including the other me. No one even managed to get past the booby traps."

Raven stood up, stretching. "Thanks, Red," Raven said, as she began to walk deeper into the manor. Halfway down the hallway, though, she stopped. Turning around, Raven glanced at Red thoughtfully. "Could you do me a favor?"

Red gave Raven a wide smile. "Anything." Raven explained her plan to Red, and as she did, his smile slowly melted. "I guess I can do that," Red pouted. "But if you wanted help, you could have just asked me."

Raven shook her head. "Thanks for the offer, Red, but I really just need him for this job. His skills are necessary for this to work."

Red nodded sadly, then watched Raven disappear into the manor's dark hallway. "Well, I can tell why you like her," Red muttered to himself.

_Why I like her_? A voice from inside Red seemed to echo inside his head. _She's brilliant, funny, and a knockout. What's not to like?_

Red grinned slightly. "You have a point, but I'll just have to take your word for it for the last one."

_Trust me. She makes Starfire look utterly plain_.

Red shook his head. He didn't need to talk to himself right now, not when Raven had asked him to do her a favor. Red walked to the door slowly, snatching his staff from the coatrack. "Time to go get him," Red muttered.

_Are you sure? The last thing we need right now is more competition._

Red grinned. "You see everyone as competition."

_Everyone_ _is_.

"Well then, time to go find our competition."

With that, Red threw open the door to the manor, and disappeared into the raging storm outside.

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans) Once again, thanks to everyone reading this. I hope to update soon!


	7. Disguises

News flash, nighttime plus rain made it hard to see. Robin stared through the cracked window, barely able to make out the shapes of fleeing Turmoils through the heavy rain. Occasionally a burst of lightning would illuminate the streets for a split second, causing the Turmoils to freeze in panic, like deer caught in a car's headlights. Then the light would fade back into the oppressive darkness of the night, and the Turmoils would return to their frantic scurrying. After losing their leader, it seemed they were returning to a home base, with all of them running down the exact same street in the exact same direction.

Robin glanced back at the other occupants of the warehouse. Among the halfway-fixed automobiles and rising machinery, the Guardians were rummaging through their utility belts, plucking out random gadgets. These gadgets were thrown into a growing mound of weapons and gizmos, an impressive display of the range of machinery Robin had stuffed in his utility belt.

"Remind me again why we aren't just following those animals," Robin grumbled, gesturing to the groups of Turmoils scrambling through the rain-splattered streets.

The karate-outfit Robin, Gi, fished a handful of random bird-a-rangs out of Classic's utility belt. "Classic wants us to be as ready as possible for this mission. That means we need to ditch all nonessential gear. We need to blend in with the Turmoils."

"Seems like a waste of time," Robin muttered, turning his attention back to the storm outside.

Nightwing glanced up from his nearly-empty utility belt. "What's got you in such a foul mood?"

Robin turned and glared at the group of Robins behind him. "I just want to find whatever caused my mind to try to kill itself, and then get out of here," Robin growled.

Grayson chuckled, turning his utility belt upside-down and shaking the remains into the growing pile of gear. "That, and you're bummed you had to poison your girlfriend."

Robin sighed. "Look, I had to drug her, or else she-" Robin whipped around to glare at Grayson. "SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!"

Grayson held his hands up in self-defense. "Chill, man!" Grayson protested. "I'm just joking."

"Yeah," Gi muttered quietly, "and Robin's a bit touchy."

Robin glared at the three boys before him. "I just want this over with," he growled. Robin surveyed the room, trying to find the leader of the group. "Where's Classic?"

"Still up on the roof," Nightwing replied, tossing his empty utility belt into the mound before him. "He's waiting for the Turmoils to thin out before we make our move."

Robin nodded, walking deeper into the warehouse. After a few minutes of searching, Robin came across a rusting ladder, bolted to a hatch on the ceiling. Climbing up the rungs, Robin noted the growing amount of stains and filth on his uniform. Bloodstains, splattered mud, rust and dust particles, drops of salsa, scorch marks, and random assortments of other imperfections plagued his uniform, causing him to look like someone you'd expect to try to mug you in a dark alley. Not exactly the look he was going for.

Upon forcing the rusty hatch open, Robin was greeted by a flood of rain, drenching the remainder of his uniform and causing his hair to completely lose its spiky quality. Robin instinctively reached for his belt for a handful of hair gel, only to remember he had left it downstairs for the Guardians to dig through. Hopefully, they'd remember that his hair gel was a necessity. Robin quickly surveyed the rooftop, and spotted Classic crouching over the street, sitting mere inches from the rooftop. Robin almost shouted for him to come back inside, but then stopped himself. Silently, Robin climbed onto the warehouse roof, quietly shutting the hatch behind him. He then walked slowly over to Classic, sitting beside him on the rooftop's edge. If Classic noticed him, he gave no sign, leaving only the sound of the downpour of rain.

Without looking up from the street, Classic began to speak quietly. "You drugged the girl?"

Robin nodded slightly. "Raven should be at the manor right now. Red is guarding her."

The two of them sat in silence for another minute, once again leaving the conversation to the heavy rain. Robin was considering getting up and heading back into the warehouse when Classic spoke again. "Good riddance," Classic muttered.

Robin stared at him, shocked. "What?"

"You heard me. Good riddance," Classic repeated, his face remaining as expressionless as a marble statue.

Robin glared at him. "How could you say that? Raven's an important part of the Titans, and a good friend of mine."

"She's a liability. Her powers cause more harm than good in this plane of existence," Classic countered, returning Robin's glare.

"Her powers have failed ONCE! That doesn't make her a liability," Robin protested.

"She's a distraction. You'll get the rest of my team killed by holding her life more important than the mission."

"A life is more important than a mission," Robin countered. "And she wouldn't be any more of a distraction than any of your teammates."

"Having her here would only serve as a burden. We would have to protect her," Classic growled.

"Raven can protect herself," Robin growled. "She's perfectly capable fighting an enemy, even without us at her side."

Classic glared at Robin for a few more moments, then returned his attention back to the waning crowd of Turmoils below. "Then why did you drug her?" Classic asked, as calmly as he had when he first started the conversation.

Robin opened his mouth to respond, and found himself with no counter. He had argued himself into a corner, displaying the reasons Raven was perfectly capable in a fight. He had just countered his own reasons for drugging her.

Classic nodded, noticing Robin's lack of response. He got to his feet slowly. "The crowd is thin enough for our plan," Classic announced grimly, as if he had revealed to Robin the date of his funeral. "We should act now, before we lose track of them."

Classic turned and walked back to the hatch silently. Throwing it open, Classic stopped before descending the ladder. "Robin," Classic began firmly, his face still expressionless, "Raven is a liability in this world simply because you would sacrifice everything else here to keep her alive. I can't risk that happening. So, you can either come with me and stop moping about Raven, or you can find Raven, apologize for your actions, and get the hell out of my city. There's no in-between."

Classic slid down the ladder silently, disappearing into the warehouse. Robin continued to sit on the rooftop, watching the thinning mobs of Turmoils below. Then he stood up and began to silently follow Classic.

* * *

The Turmoils had about the same collective level of intelligence as a baked potato. Individually, you could only make a reasonable comparison to a clump of dirt, or maybe, for the geniuses among them, a turnip. So, obviously, when the mobs swarmed past the warehouse that was notorious for housing the Guardians, the only thought running through their tiny minds would be the slight recognition "_oh, that building must be a warehouse"_. Rhodes scholars, they were not.

The final dozen Turmoils were running past the entrance to the rusting warehouse when a Robin's voice hissed, "Hey, morons!"

By now, the Turmoils had become aware of the fact that when most people said 'moron', it was probably directed at them. The group screeched to a stop, tripping over each other and slipping in the mud. A couple of the boys glanced around the now-empty street, trying to figure out who had called.

"Over here, you idiots," the voice repeated, his words emphasized by barely concealed rage. After another minute, the group figured out that the voice was coming from the nearby warehouse.

One of the braver Turmoils, which wasn't saying much, stepped forward warily. "W-Wrath?" the Turmoil stammered, wiping rain from his mask. "I-Is that you?"

Obviously the Turmoils weren't the sharpest knives in the drawer. After a moment of silence, though, the voice spoke again. "Yes, it's me," the voice growled. Due to their limited intelligence and one-track minds, the Turmoils didn't notice the muffled laughter behind the door. "Get your sorry asses in here," the voice continued, "I need help."

Now, even though the mental ability of the Turmoils was equivalent to a bowl of oatmeal, they noticed the oddness of the statement. Obeying Wrath, sure, they were used to that. But Wrath never, under any circumstances, EVER asked for help. He was more of the type of leader who blames mistakes on his 'incapable' troops, and expected the Turmoils to fix the mess immediately. To Wrath, the idea of requesting help was similar to a demon's opinion of holy water. Even the Turmoils had picked up on that fact by now. The Turmoils glanced at each other nervously, silently daring each other to enter the building. Finally, four Turmoils stepped forward reluctantly, drawing their assortment of baseball bats and fire axes from their improvised holsters. The others took a large step backwards, also drawing their weapons. The "volunteers" warily approached the now-silent warehouse, slipping through the entrance quietly.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then the silence was shattered by an earsplitting crash and the sound of several Robins shouting. The warehouse began to echo with the sounds of a wild fight, metal scraping against metal, and bodies slamming into the steel walls of the warehouse. The Turmoils outside glanced at each other nervously, gripping their weapons so tightly their knuckles turned white. Between the twelve of them, only one had a handgun. The others had only improvised weapons like kitchen knives and lead pipes. If whatever was in the warehouse could take out four Turmoils, one handgun might not be able to stop it.

Finally, the warehouse's entrance burst open, causing the Turmoils to flinch, their weapons quivering in their shaking hands. The four Turmoils who had entered, now bloody and bruised, stumbled out of the building, dragging a kicking and shouting Guardian out with them. For a moment, the Turmoils couldn't believe what they were seeing. That wasn't just any Guardian. That was Classic, the elite, the crème a la crème. And right now, he was at the mercy of the four Turmoils around him.

"Get your hands off of me," Classic growled, struggling against the four Turmoils, who were stealing from the effort of keeping Classic restrained. "I swear, as soon as I-"

Classic was cut off as one of his captors delivered a brutal uppercut to their prisoner, slamming his jaw shut and causing Classic to bite his tongue. "Shut up," the Turmoil snapped, giving Classic a quick jab between the eyes. "We're taking you back to the base."

Some of the other Turmoils, the ones who hadn't entered the building, glanced at each other, confused. "Uh, wait a second," one of the Turmoils protested, fiddling with the baseball bat in his hands. "Didn't the boss say to kill any Guardians on sight?"

One of the other Turmoils restraining Classic sighed, shaking his head as if he was dealing with idiots. "Yeah, we know. But this guy is the leader of the Guardians. Terrible name for a team, by the way. Anyway, he might know where Robin and the other Guardians are. If we can find out where they are, we'd be heroes."

The Turmoils' eyes immediately lit up at the word "heroes". Usually, the Turmoils weren't known for being anything but cannon fodder serving the SDS. Not exactly a reputation that you want on your resume. Needless to say, the Turmoils were always eager to raise their status in Robin's mind. Catching the Guardians AND Robin would be worth at least one promotion. The group of Turmoils began to nod excitedly, sheathing their weapons. "We gotta bring him back to base!" one of the Turmoils exclaimed, rallying the cheers of the others.

"The boss will probably want to speak to Classic himself," one of Classic's captors suggested casually.

"Let's bring him to the boss!" another Turmoil cheered, leading the Turmoils in a charge down Wayside Street, with Classic's captors close behind.

As soon as the mob of cheering Turmoils was out of earshot, Classic spat a few drops of blood out of his mouth, glaring at the Turmoil that had delivered the punch. "Next time, a little easier on the punishment," Classic hissed, continuing to spit out the blood leaking from his injured tongue.

The Turmoil smirked, glancing quickly at the crowd ahead of them to make sure they were definitely out of earshot. "That was for calling Raven a liability."

Classic continued to glare at the disguised Robin, but couldn't attack without blowing their cover. Robin grinned. Knocking the attacking Turmoils unconscious had only taken a few seconds. The remainder of the time had been spent throwing on the Turmoils' ratty clothing and making as much noise as possible, trying to make it sound as if the fight was still raging. After smearing some grease and dirt across each of their faces, it was impossible to tell that the Turmoils had been replaced by Robin and the disguised Guardians. Fooling the remaining Turmoils hadn't been much of a challenge, of course, and it only took a few choice statements to convince them to lead the four disguised Guardians and Classic straight towards their headquarters. For now, all they had to do was keep up the act until they found whoever was behind this whole endeavor.

* * *

The journey across the city took considerably longer than Robin expected. The city streets were almost indistinguishable from each other due to the storm's heavy rain and the darkness of the night. Robin had lost count of how many times the Turmoils had reached a crossroad, argued for several minutes over which street led to the base, followed the wrong streets in a loop back to the original crossroad, and repeated the process. Every so often one of the Guardians would glance at Robin and chuckle, reminding him that the imbeciles were spawned from his thoughts. In response, Robin would jab the offender in the forehead, shutting them up until the Turmoils' next boneheaded action. After what seemed like hours, the mob of Turmoils got lucky and picked a correct street, leading them straight to the foot of their home base.

Nightwing stared up at the enormous building before them and whistled softly. "Now THAT is a tower."

The massive skyscraper looming above them seemed to be the masterpiece of the city, a perfect fusion of the dark, gritty tones and Jump City's gleaming construction. The tower seemed to be double the height of any other building in the city, with its tip disappearing in the swirling storm clouds above. The skyscraper was constructed of a sleek black metal, running flawlessly around every window and carving. Near the peak of the tower, the building branched into two separate sections atop the main foundation. The building was an entirely black replica of Titans Tower, except double the size of the original. Bolted to the top of the Tower, barely visible in the darkness, was an enormous _W_, glowing a harsh white. Below, in slightly smaller letters, was a similarly glowing string of letters, reading _WAYNE ENTERPRISES_. Robin couldn't decide if he was impressed or intimidated by the massive structure. Probably a bit of both.

Grayson chuckled softly. "When we bust whoever's in there, we totally need to make this place our new headquarters."

Classic glared at Grayson, a few drops of blood running down the sides of his mouth. "This is the operating center for the central nervous system. No one is supposed to enter this building."

Gi gestured towards the swarms of Turmoils flowing into the tower. "Yeah, it definitely looks like people are respecting that rule."

The group silently entered the line of Turmoils entering the building, trying their best to remain inconspicuous. Unfortunately, Robin could feel every Turmoil nearby staring at them. When you're transporting a Guardian prisoner into the mind's central hub, it's not exactly easy to go incognito.

Robin's group was almost to the door when Robin immediately halted, staring at the door. "Mayday," Robin hissed, pointing towards the two guards standing near the door.

The two guards beside the entrance were obviously not Turmoils. One of the two stood in front of the door, checking every group of Turmoils before allowing them inside. In his right hand, he clutched one of Robin's signature staffs. In his left, he clutched a perfect red apple that seemed to heal itself whenever the boy took a bite, which was often. The boy's uniform was a dark orange, and his hair hung loosely, overgrown and uncared for. The other boy was leaning against the tower wall, as if he didn't particularly care who entered the tower and who didn't. His chocolate-brown uniform almost seemed to melt into the wall, as if he had been leaning there for a very long time. His eyes appeared shut, and Robin would have thought he was asleep if he didn't occasionally adjust the weapon in his hand. To Robin's surprise, the boy didn't hold a staff like most Robins, but instead clutched a polished sniper rifle, which gleamed silver in the moonlight.

Classic swore under his breath. "The one in front of the door is Gluttony. Don't mistake him for slow, he's faster than most of the residents of your mind. The one with the gun is Sloth. He's the best shot I know. He almost killed me from a mile away once. SDS, if you couldn't figure that out."

Robin's eyes narrowed. SDS. So far, the only two he had encountered were Wrath and Red, both of which were capable of killing without a hesitation or remorse. He wasn't exactly in the mood for more of them. It was too late to turn back, though. One more group of Turmoils ahead of them, and then their group would be checked.

As Robin and the Guardians slowly approached, Robin could slightly make out the conversation between Sloth and Gluttony.

"Four hundred or so Turmoils available," Gluttony grumbled between mouthfuls of apple, "and they have to pick the two of us for guard duty."

Without opening his eyes, Sloth responded quietly, "Last time you went on a field mission, you killed a target we were supposed to capture alive."

Sloth shrugged, allowing the group ahead to enter the building. "You can't blame me. That guy…which was his name, Dignity or Respect? Anyway, he had it coming. I merely separated his head from his body." Gluttony took one final chomp of his apple, then glanced up at Robin's group. "What the hell is HE doing here?" Gluttony asked angrily, pointing towards Classic. "You're supposed to kill him on sight."

Robin opened his mouth to respond, but Grayson spoke first. "W-we thought he could be used to find out where the others are," Grayson stammered, intentionally altering his voice to sound like a terrified Turmoil.

Gluttony glared at the group. "Okay then, genius," he growled. "How did you manage to catch him?"

"He was taking a leak," Nightwing answered calmly. "We swung a baseball bat into the back of his head. He's not exactly the brightest of bulbs."

Classic glared at Nightwing, making it clear that Nightwing would be strangled as soon as this was over. Gluttony leered at Nightwing. "Is that so?" Gluttony asked quietly. Robin suddenly noticed that Sloth had silently lifted the sniper rifle, pointing the barrel directly at the center of Classic's forehead. Gluttony turned towards Grayson, clutching his staff tightly. "What did you say your name was?"

To Robin's horror, Grayson's face went blank. He opened his mouth to respond, shut it, and then reopened it, not a sound escaping the entire time. Finally Grayson remembered how to speak. "Phil?" Grayson squeaked. Robin fought the intense urge to slap his forehead, and, according to the group's faces, they felt the same way.

Gluttony continued to glare at the group for a few more seconds. "Go," Gluttony suddenly ordered.

Robin looked at him, confused. "What?"

Gluttony gestured towards the door, obviously rolling his eyes behind his mask. "You can go in. Just don't let him get loose."

The group stared at Gluttony for a moment, then decided not to waste their good fortune. The four scrambled through the tower doors, dragging Classic behind them. Robin smiled as soon as his back was to Gluttony. Maybe he might have some good luck after all.

* * *

Gluttony silently watched the group enter the tower. After they disappeared through the doors, he turned to Sloth, who now looked completely awake. Sloth nodded without a sound, and Gluttony whipped out his communicator. The small device was styled after the Titans communicator, but the plating was gunmetal gray, with the Titan logo scratched off with a knife. Flipping the communicator open, Gluttony stared at the screen for a moment. A list of contacts flashed on the screen, listing each of the SDS, plus a few others. After a moment's hesitation, Gluttony tapped a contact simply labeled "Boss". The communicator shook for a few seconds, and then the call connected.

"Um, boss?" Gluttony asked carefully, holding the communicator as if it was radioactive. "Gluttony here. Y-yes, I know. But they just entered the tower. Four of them disguised as Turmoils, one as a fake prisoner. Are you sure you don't want us to take them out? Sloth could just…yes sir. What? Yeah, Pride was right about Robin's drug plan. The girl isn't with them, and neither is Red. Should we go in and help, or should we…yes sir. I'll leave it to you."

Gluttony turned off his communicator, slipping it back into his belt. Glancing at Sloth, Gluttony could tell both of them were thinking the same thing. Even though the boss said they would be saved, killing Robin might still wipe them out. They had a single choice. Go inside and warn Robin about the trap, or stay here and follow orders. One simple choice.

Gluttony took another bite of his apple. Following orders was always easier.

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans) Yes, yes, I know, there is no Raven or Red in this chapter, please don't hate me. I promise at least one will return in the next though! Thank you to everyone reading this, and please review!


	8. Countdown

All of the agony Wrath had ever experienced was nothing compared to this. Wrath pressed his hands against his ears, trying in vain to block out the constant shrill, earsplitting chatter. He howled in anger, slamming the full force of his body against the door, trying fruitlessly to force it to open. Glancing at the faded environment around him, Wrath glared at the ever-chattering imp that floated in the center of the room. Larry, as the Titans had named him, was just as bleached and faded as the rest of the room, but his screechy voice still rang out with perfect clarity. Wrath continued to desperately clutch his ears, throwing himself again and again against the door. He'd been trying for a least an hour. He'd been foolish at first, assuming that the painful memory would eventually pass into something less horrifying. To his horror, the memory immediately restarted as soon as the vile little goblin was leaving, looping Larry's antics infinitely. Wrath kicked at the door frantically, struggling to keep his balance with his palms pressed against the sides of his head. By now he had realized that Red, acting like the bastard he was, had jammed the door from the other side. Wrath could have easily picked a lock, or even bashed it down without much trouble, but now he was stuck. His utility belt was apparently on the other side of the door, confiscated along with his firearms while he was a corpse. Right now, all he had to rely on was himself, and to pray that he'd stay sane. Well, relatively sane, at least.

"Red, if I get out of here alive," Wrath muttered to himself, slamming himself against the door, "I'm going to kill you in any way I can, burn your remains, and scatter the ashes across this whole damn city."

The entire left side of Wrath's body was beginning to bruise, and he'd lost track of how many splinters he'd received from the rotting wood, but he didn't care. The only thought on his mind was breaking out of his prison and mutilating Red.

Wrath glared up at the ceiling, continuing to ram the door. "You hear me, Red?" Wrath shouted, preparing to slam into the door again. "When I get out of here, you're dead! You're-"

Suddenly, the door gave way with the snapping of timbers and the groan of the doorframe. Wrath tumbled out of the room, rolling to a stop among the shattered remains of a chair. For a moment, Wrath just lay on the floor, stunned that his plan had actually worked. Then he got to his feet, brushing the dust off of his uniform. "Well," Wrath muttered, grinning, "I guess that's over with."

Locating his weapons was surprisingly simple. Red hadn't bothered to conceal any of them, leaving his utility belt and handgun on a stained coffee table. The assault rifle, though, was another story. Wrath scoured every inch of the manor, leaving no nook or cranny unchecked. Unfortunately, his prized firearm was nowhere to be found. Wrath had even considered checking the plumbing before remembering that time was of the essence. Grimacing, Wrath loaded a new clip into the handgun, giving it a quick inspection. Not exactly built to be a primary weapon, but it was good enough for now. He could weep over his lost assault rifle later.

"Two targets," Wrath snarled, throwing the manor doors open and advancing into the storm. "First, Red. Wherever you are, I have a bullet with your name on it. Second, that girl. No one that comes walking into my city walks back out."

* * *

Until now, Robin had considered the landscape of his mind to be completely composed of grimy city blocks and, occasionally, some of the sleek skyscrapers of Jump City. Now, though, Robin wondered if Cyborg had designed part of his mind. Every wall of the skyscraper was covered with computer monitors, towering racks of motherboards, and enough random bits of machinery to make a tech geek drool. The only light in the building came from the dull glow of LED screens and flickering light panels haphazardly bolted onto the walls.

Gi stared at the impressive array of machinery around them. "Great," Gi grumbled, hauling Classic forwards. "They get the equivalent of a time machine, and we're stuck with a rat-infested warehouse."

"Zip it," Classic growled, quickly glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "The last thing we need is to blow our cover right now."

Nightwing looked around the dimly lit entry hall. "Who's going to hear us?"

Glancing backwards, Robin realized what Nightwing meant. The Turmoils who had been pouring through the doors a moment ago were now being stopped from entering the building. Only a few Turmoils were still in the entry hall, most of which were digging through a mound of busted electronics for anything salvageable. Every minute or two, one of them would triumphantly hold up an intact computer chip, and then scurry around the building, replacing bits and pieces of computers. Judging by the small amount of workers, only a few Turmoils had entered the building after their group. That wasn't a good sign.

"Think they're on to us?" Grayson muttered, glancing around nervously. "I kind of blew it back there."

Robin shook his head. "If they were onto us, the SDS would have killed us then and there. We're still safe."

Classic frowned, wiping the last traces of blood from his lips. "I don't understand what the SDS are doing, though. They're not usually this irrational. They've never tried anything of this magnitude."

Nightwing chuckled. "Except for Wrath. Remember that time he tried to control Robin's actions through muscle spasms?"

Robin winced. "That was him? I accidentally broke Beast Boy's nose during combat practice because of those spasms."

Classic shook his head. "That was him, but it wasn't well planned. We took him out after a day or two. The other SDS, though, were never this insane. I even worked with Pride when Robin was trying to find Slade for the first time. The others were powerful, buy they were always just, well, normal. Well, except for Red. He's as deadly as all of the others combined."

Robin stared at him. "What do you mean?"

Grayson started counting the kills off of his fingers. "Let's see, he's killed Wrath a few minutes ago, but he also killed Greed twice, Envy once, Gi three times, Nightwing twice, two hundred and forty two Turmoils, and, occasionally, a few other emotions."

Nightwing nodded. "He used to own the record for most kills in twenty-four hours, before Pride doubled it. He never had the greatest relationship with Pride to begin with, so Red didn't take it well. Long story short, there was a major civil war." Nightwing glanced at Gi. "That was Japan, right?"

Gi nodded. "Yeah, Tokyo left this place a crater. Red and Pride came to a truce when Robin was framed for murder, but they're still not exactly buddies."

Nightwing chuckled softly. "Red eased off a little bit after he absorbed Love in the Great Fadeout, but he's still not a guy you want to mess with."

"Great," Robin muttered, turning back to the emptying entry hall. "I left Raven with a homicidal maniac. Good move, Robin."

Grayson grinned. "Are you still miffed about your girlfriend, Romeo?"

Before Robin could throttle Grayson, the group was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Turning around, Robin noticed a trembling Turmoil, who was holding a crumpled slip of paper in his right hand. The Turmoil opened his mouth to talk, but all that came out was a small squeak. Then he seemed to come down, now seeming more frightened than terrified.

"A-are you the ones who c-captured Classic?" the Turmoil stammered, checking the piece of paper quickly.

Classic glared at him, switching back into hostile-hostage mode. "No, I'm being dragged into your place for fun, dimwit."

The Turmoil glanced back down at the paper in his hand nervously. "W-well, the boss wants to speak with you guys. H-he sent me to show you the way."

Robin nodded, continuing to restrain the struggling Classic. "Sounds good," Robin replied. At least their group would be led directly to whoever running this show.

"You don't have to be so terrified," Gi chuckled, gesturing towards Classic. "We've got him under control."

This didn't seem to soothe the Turmoil, but he gave them a shaky nod. "S-sorry. Right this way."

The Turmoil quickly turned around, speed-walking down the hallway. Robin looked at the others, who seemed just as suspicious as he was. Finally, Grayson nudged Robin forward, and the four of them began to drag Classic down the hallway after the Turmoil.

Each of the hallways looked the same as the last, all of them plastered with computer monitors and crammed with all kinds of sensors and machinery. All of the computers seemed to be absorbing some sort of energy, as most of the screens were covered with power supply readouts and impossible-to-understand calculations. The only readout that actually made sense to Robin simply read, "86% charged". Robin tapped Classic's shoulder, and then silently pointed towards one of the monitors with a confused look on his face. Glancing at the monitor, Classic shrugged, looking just as confused as Robin. Finally, Gi spoke up.

"Hey, um, Turmoil," Gi called out, causing their guide to freeze in his tracks. "What's with all the complicated machinery?"

The Turmoil turned around quickly, still trembling slightly. "Oh, um, the boss is charging power for another run," he answered nervously. The Turmoil then continued to walk down the hallway, slightly faster than he had before.

Robin quickly glanced at Classic. "Another run?"

Classic bit back a swear. "Before your first suicide attempt, there was an enormous buildup of energy, centering on this tower. If this tower is charging up, that means-"

"Whoever's behind this is trying again," Robin finished. "That's not reassuring."

Nightwing scowled. "You'll be fine, unless it succeeds. We'll be reset, though, just like last time."

"We need to hurry, then," Robin said, beginning to move slightly faster. "When we find whoever hijacked my brain, I want to face him before he makes me jump off of a building."

The Turmoil leading the group suddenly made a sharp turn, beginning to climb a spiral staircase that stretched higher than Robin could see. Dragging Classic up the stairs was a hassle, and Grayson accidentally elbowed Classic in the face twice in a row before the group got the hang of it. The Turmoil jogged up the stairs, keeping several steps ahead of the group. Occasionally he'd glance backwards at the group, making sure they were still following him. At first, Robin didn't really mind climbing the stairs, but after thirteen flights of stairs were ascended, he started to become annoyed.

"How many more floors until we reach the boss?" Robin called up to the Turmoil, struggling to pull Classic around a tight corner.

"Um, only a few more, Robin," the Turmoil called back nervously. "We'll reach the boss soon."

Robin continued his attempt to pull Classic around the corner until he noticed the oddity in the Turmoil's statement. He immediately dropped Classic, whose head slammed against the iron stairway.

"Hey!" Classic cried, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "Why did you…" Classic trailed off as he realized the Turmoil's statement's fatal flaw.

Robin stared up at the Turmoil. "Why did you call me Robin?"

The Turmoils eyes widened, and he began to slowly retreat up the stairs. "Uh, I didn't mean to…I mean, I call everyone Robin…no, wait, it was a joke…" The Turmoil stammered excuses, trying to take back his mistake. Finally he gave up, fleeing up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. Robin immediately dashed after him, with the other Guardians in close pursuit. The Turmoil continued up two more flights of steps before throwing open a nearby door and diving inside. Without thinking, Robin threw open the door, charging inside after the Turmoil.

The room Robin entered was enormous. Three of the steel walls were lined with rows and rows of iron catwalks. The ceiling stretched high enough to disappear in the shadows, as the only source of light in the room came from luminescent floor tiles, which paved the entire room. The wall across from the door was a gigantic glass window, giving a picturesque view of the dark city below. There was no furniture in the room, not even any of the machinery that plagued most of the tower, and Robin almost mistook the room for deserted. Then he glanced up at the catwalks.

Each and every iron platform bolted to the walls was crammed with Turmoils. There must have been hundreds in the room, each of which clutched some sort of crude weapon, from sections of lead pipe to improvised flamethrowers consisting of squirt guns and cans of oil. The glowing floor tiles cast an unnatural light on the masses of Turmoils, who were giggling with excitement. Before Robin could escape the room, the rest of the Guardians tumbled into the warehouse-sized area. The door automatically swung shut behind them, and Robin could hear the mechanized clicks of a dozen locks simultaneously activating.

"Okay, an ambush," Robin muttered. "In retrospect, it was kind of obvious."

"But you feel for it nonetheless," a voice called from one of the catwalks high above. Glancing upwards, Robin spotted the one individual who obviously wasn't a Turmoil. In the center of the highest visible catwalk stood a Robin that literally radiated power. The Robin's uniform was an emerald green, with the exception of his cape and utility belt, which were as black as midnight. In his right hand, the Robin clutched a long black whip, the handle studded with various precious gems. In his left hand, the boy held a short silver dagger, about ten inches long, at most. The eyes of his mask glowed a bright emerald, causing his entire face to appear a dull green. The Robin literally had an aura of power around him, the area within a few feet of him glowing a radioactive green. The air around the boy seemed to bend to his will, as tendrils of green stretched out of the aura around him. His expression was that of one who knows he is the most powerful one in the room, and was about to prove it. The boy grinned confidently. To be so sure of himself, he must be either powerful enough to devastate everyone nearby with a thought, or so self-absorbed that he knew only of his own abilities. There was no doubt in Robin's mind that the boy who stood before them was a member of the SDS.

Robin glanced over at Classic. "Okay, who's the green kid?"

To Robin's surprise, Classic looked even more confused than Robin had ever seen him. "I-I don't know," Classic admitted, staring at the Robin above them. "I've seen all of the SDS several times, but he's…he's not like anything I've seen before."

The Robin above them began to laugh, the sound echoing throughout the gigantic chamber. "Has your memory really grown so old, Classic?" the boy taunted. "Come on, I know you pride yourself on being the best detective this world has to offer. Take your best guess."

Classic's brow furrowed, concentrating. The other Guardians mimicked the action, although Robin wasn't sure if they were actually trying to deduce the situation or just trying to look like they were participating.

"The whip was always Envy's weapon of choice," Classic mumbled, deep in concentration, "but the dagger belonged to Greed. None of the SDS, or anyone I ever met, radiated power like that. Pride doesn't have that appearance, but Envy was always a deep green, and Greed was obsessed with precious stones…" Classic's eyes widened, and he stared up at the boy with a mixture of disgust and amazement. "My god, you didn't."

Robin waved his hand in front of Classic's face to get his attention. "Um, I'm still new here. What did he do? Who the heck is he?" Robin demanded.

The green Robin chuckled, twirling the silver dagger in his fingers. "Oh, Robin, don't tell me that you're depending on your own subconscious to help you figure things out. You're supposed to be a leader." Suddenly, in a burst of green smoke, the Robin vanished. Then, as quickly as he had disappeared, the Robin reappeared on the warehouse floor in another poof of smoke, now casually standing about thirty yards away. He sighed dramatically, as if he had to deal with a disobedient child. "If you must have someone tell you who I am, you might as well hear it from me."

The boy admired the thin whip in his hand, a small grin creeping across his face. "You see, most of the emotions in this sorry excuse for a city saw the Great Fadeout as a burden, doubling their workload. I, on the other hand, saw it as a valuable opportunity. I cannot remember who I originally was, to be completely honest. I could have been Greed, who always craved more power. Maybe Envy, who always desired to tower above his lesser acquaintances. It does not matter. Now, as you can see, I am superior to whatever I was before."

Robin's eyes narrowed as the realization of the boy's act washed over him. "You combined them, didn't you?" Robin couldn't decide whether he was impressed or horrified. "You're both Envy and Greed. You merged during the Great Fadeout."

The boy's smile stretched from ear to ear. He was obviously relishing the attention from the Guardians. "Yes. I was the only one who was wise enough to use the event to gain power." The boy didn't seem to be directing his speech at the Guardians anymore. He seemed to be enjoying the showcasing of his abilities, and now was complimenting himself. "I am greater than Envy or Greed ever was. I am-" The boy's speech suddenly lurched to a halt, his face blank. He obviously had given no thought to what he would be called after his transformation. "I am…um…"

"Narcissistic?" Nightwing suggested, keeping his face absolutely neutral.

"A braggart?" Gi supplied, snickering.

"A pain in the ass," Classic decided.

The boy glared at them, his green eyes ablaze with hostility. "Shut up," the boy hissed, tapping his forehead as he tried to concoct a name. "Green, maybe? No, Red already took the color name. Powerhouse? No, that's way too cheesy. Ultimate SDS?"

The boy froze, apparently struck with an idea. He smiled triumphantly. "Emerald. My name is Emerald."

Robin shook his head incredulously. "Okay, is there anyone in my mind that has a normal name? What about John or Henry? Are regular names taboo here?"

Grayson glanced over at Robin, laughing softly. "This coming from the kid who calls himself Robin."

"Shut up!" Emerald growled, trying to regain his composure. A few of the Turmoils on the catwalks had begun to chuckle with the Guardians, but immediately stopped when Emerald sent them a withering glare. "Anyway," Emerald continued, "I was the only one capable of concocting this genius plan or gaining power. I have enough energy stored up inside of me to fry everyone in this room with a thought. I was sure I was going to be the new ruler of this realm. But then…"

Emerald stomped his foot in anger, looking similar to a spoiled toddler. "That jerk Pride had to be in the right place at the right time! He didn't deserve to have that kind of power! I'm the smartest! I'm the one who actually figured out how to gain power through emotion fusion! Pride just stumbled across that power! He just got lucky!"

"I take it Pride became leader," Robin guessed, slowly reaching into his Turmoil jacket for his staff. A few minutes ago, Emerald had seemed to be the all-powerful force he claimed to be. Now, though, he just seemed like a child who couldn't stand not getting his way. No matter how immature he was, though, he still had more power than anyone else in the room.

"Pride isn't the leader," Emerald snapped, his radioactive aura glowing brighter. "He's just hosting the boss. I'd never serve Pride. The boss is just using Pride's body."

"This 'boss' is the one who tried to cut Robin's throat?" Grayson asked, apparently stalling for time. The Turmoils on the catwalks were beginning to become anxious, gripping their weapons and staring hungrily down at the Guardians. If Emerald continued his monologue, they wouldn't attack, but this couldn't last forever.

"Of course he's the one who cut Robin's throat," Emerald snarled, tightening his grip on his whip and dagger. "He almost succeeded, too. Next time, Robin won't be so lucky."

Gi held up his hands, as if he couldn't keep up with the conversation. "Hold up. Let me get this straight. You have some sort of inferiority complex, to start off with."

"I'm not inferior!" Emerald protested, glaring at Gi.

Gi waved off the complaint. "Whatever. You obviously are harboring a grudge against Pride, because he became stronger. You're only serving Pride because your 'boss', whoever he is, is using his body."

"Having a problem understanding our conversation, idiot?" Emerald snarled, glancing at the Turmoils as if considering whether he should allow them to attack.

"The boss is trying to kill Robin," Gi continued, looking slightly puzzled. "So…why are you serving the boss in the first place?"

Emerald frowned, surprised by the question. "Well…he promised we'd survive if we helped him."

Classic nodded, recognizing what Gi was trying to say. "You're basically helping the boss murder Robin. Why do you want Robin killed in the first place?"

Emerald's face went blank. His aura seemed to fade a little as he tried to figure out why he was serving his master. "Well…um…I guess it's because…" Emerald trailed off, scratching his head in confusion. "Um, he said he'd…I wanted to…" Emerald's face was a mask of confusion, as if he hadn't decided to take any of the actions he did. Robin could tell from experience what the sensation was like.

Emerald shook his head wildly, trying to shake off the idea. "It doesn't matter!" Emerald hissed, cracking his whip as if it would help clear his thoughts. "All I need to do is finish off you five, and afterwards I can worry about why."

The Turmoils on the catwalks exploded with noise, shouting crude threats at the Guardians and loading any firearms they had among them. Robin immediately whipped out his staff, noticing the Guardians doing the same. Robin instinctively reached for a bird-a-rang, but then remembered that everything except for his grappling hook and staff had been removed, along with his utility belt. In retrospect, that had been a massive mistake. All five of the Robins instinctively went back to back, switching into fighting stances. In the back of his mind, Robin noted that all four of the Guardians actually had the same training as he had, but in a room literally filled to the brim with henchmen and a god-like version of Robin, that revelation was of little comfort.

"How many firearms?" Robin muttered, scanning the room's occupants for any type of rifle or handgun.

"At least sixteen on the bottom row," Nightwing reported, surveying the Turmoil-infested catwalks.

"Even more than that on the higher balconies," Gi added.

Robin sighed. "Okay, maybe leaving Raven behind was a mistake."

"You don't say?" Grayson muttered, nervously glancing towards the approaching Emerald.

Emerald strolled forward nonchalantly, like a cat toying with his prey. His aura seemed to brighten, distorting the air around him and casting a menacing glow across the room. His silver dagger seemed to be made of jade, reflecting the aura, and the whip snapped at the air as Emerald casually flicked his wrist back and forth. "Come on, boys, give me the twist," Emerald taunted, a grin creeping across his face. "Are there going to be reinforcements at the last second? Is one of you concealing a super weapon that was conveniently not mentioned before? No? Maybe, just maybe, birdboy ran out of plans."

Robin bit his lip, cursing himself. Of course there was going to be an ambush, but Robin was feeling too guilty about Raven to think about any type of plan. For once, Robin was out of ideas.

A burst of lighting lit up the night sky outside, framed by the wall-sized window behind Emerald. A heartbeat afterwards, thunder exploded, a sound loud enough to cause most of the Turmoils to flinch involuntarily. To Robin's surprise, the sound of thunder didn't disappear after a moment, but seemed to fade to a continuous growl, which echoed throughout the city streets. Emerald stopped in his tracks, apparently as surprised as Robin. Glancing backwards, Emerald stared out the window for a few seconds, curious. Then Robin heard Emerald's breath catch in his throat.

"T-that's not…" Emerald stared out the rain-splattered window, a nervous look beginning to spread across his face. Robin leaned over, trying to find what Emerald was staring at. The growl in the city streets had escalated into a dull roar as whatever caused the sound approached. Suddenly, the corner of a nearby apartment building burst apart as a vehicle the size of a small tank ripped through it.

The vehicle seemed to be a slick car, as black as midnight, with enough armor bolted on to make a military tank seem like a child's toy. The metal along the hood of the vehicle was intentionally peeled away to reveal massive, turbine-like engine. The black steel of the car curved seamlessly backward, slipping over a perfectly integrated cockpit to form two sleek batwings. The roar grew louder as the vehicle rocketed forwards, speeding towards the tower at breakneck speed.

Emerald's face was as white as snow, horror creeping across his face. "T-that can't be him," Emerald stuttered. "There's no way that can be…"

Classic whipped around to face Robin. "You said you dismantled all the vehicles."

Robin stared at the approaching vehicle, his expression a strange mixture between surprise, relief, joy, and absolute terror. "I didn't think she could reach that one."

The Turmoils were dashing across the catwalks with panic, trying to get as far away from the window as possible, trampling each other in the process. Emerald simply stood where he was, dumbstruck. The tank-car was now only about a hundred yards away from the building. Even from here Robin could see sparks erupting on top of the armor as high-caliber ammunition struck its hull. Even Sloth's sniper shots couldn't even put a scratch on the vehicle.

Suddenly, the jet-black vehicle lurched to a halt as the cockpit slid open and a person launched out. The figure soared directly towards the massive window, showing no intentions of changing course. The person crashed through the window, the shattering of the glass sounding similar to dozens of simultaneous gunshots. As soon as the cloaked figure struck the ground, the walls and catwalks suddenly began to glow with black energy. The Turmoils glanced at each other nervously, too terrified to consider moving. The catwalks collapsed as one, rows and rows of Turmoils tumbling to the ground in an avalanche of steel. Each catwalk crashed on top of the Turmoils below and was soon crushed by the catwalks and Turmoils landing on top of them. After only a few seconds, hundreds of Turmoils were lying on the ground, moaning in agony. The cloaked figure looked up. Lightning flashed behind the shattered window, briefly illuminating the few people who remained standing. Four red eyes glared out from beneath the hood, glowing with more anger and hostility than Emerald could ever dream of.

Raven stood, her cloak flapping behind her in the gusts of wind from the new hole in the wall. Emerald's look of fear didn't change in the slightest, and he scampered backwards, not sure if he should he nearer to the five Robins or Raven.

Raven turned to face the six standing Robins in front of her. "One of you is about to have his soul torn apart piece by piece," Raven stated calmly, the evenness of her tone sharply contrasting the waves of dark magic radiating off of her. "Robin, you have exactly three seconds to convince me to not to destroy your soul first."

Robin gulped, glancing around at the Guardians around him. Each of them gave him a sympathetic look, and then took a large step away from him, as if he was about to explode. Emerald looked from Raven to Robin and back again, realized he was directly in the line of fire, and quickly took a few steps backwards. Robin desperately tried to think of a reason his soul shouldn't be instantly incinerated.

"Three."

Just one reason. One reason Raven shouldn't rip apart his soul and cast it into wherever ripped-apart souls are doomed to go. One small reason.

"Two."

Robin sighed. "I don't have one."

"One."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans) Sorry for the long time it took to update. I hope you enjoy the story. Please review!


	9. Regret

Robin had thought he had known terror before. Fighting an untouchable hallucination of Slade had not exactly been a picnic. Watching the real Slade conquer Jump City, with an apprentice that the Titans thought was a friend, didn't exactly have the right ingredients to be a comedy. However, compared to a furious Raven counting down to Robin's inevitable demise, those moments seemed like fond memories. All he needed was one little reason to stop her from blowing his soul to bits. Unfortunately, he was drawing a blank for any protests or arguments. Even less fortunately, Robin knew that anything he tried to submit as a reason most likely wouldn't matter. Raven will probably incinerate him anyway.

"I don't have one," Robin sighed, casting his eyes down to avoid looking into Raven's four eyes, all of them glowing with rage. Out of the corner of his eye, Robin noticed Emerald trying fruitlessly to conceal his snickering. Classic and his Guardians all slapped their foreheads in unison.

"One," Raven finished coldly, her voice sounding tripled through the aura of dark magic around her.

Raven lifted her arm, almost as if she were simply pointing her hand at Robin. Her hand was concealed by a sphere of crackling black energy, which Robin did not doubt could shatter his soul on contact. The sphere seemed to grow in her hand, reaching a diameter of a full two feet. Everyone nearby took an instinctive step backward with the exception of Robin, who stood his ground like a man who had given in to his execution. For a moment, the entire room was silent except for the crackling sphere of magic in Raven's hand. Raven's four eyes stared at Robin for a moment.

"Good choice of words," Raven replied calmly, her voice returning to the normal tones. Then, before anyone could react, Raven shifted her aim and launched the two-foot thick, crackling sphere of dark energy towards Emerald.

Emerald's eyes widened, and only had time to squeak an incomprehensible cry for help before the orb slammed into his chest. The magic vanished on impact, but Emerald flew backwards as if he had been struck by a freight train. He smashed directly into the steel wall behind him and kept going, tearing straight through the metal and crashing into the next room. As Emerald smashed into a bank of computer monitors, there was a groan of metal throughout the room, and then, as one, every precariously placed piece of machinery tumbled off of the wall and crashed down, burying Emerald under a massive mound of electronics. There was no movement beneath the pile.

Grayson peered through the new hole in the wall, climbing over piles of catwalks and unconscious Turmoils to do so. "Um, Raven," he muttered, obviously intimidated by the power Raven had just displayed, "I think that might have been overkill."

"Remind me not to annoy that girl," Nightwing muttered as he began to dig through the enormous pile of unconscious Turmoils in search of weaponry.

Raven closed her four eyes, her aura of magic quickly draining. When she reopened her eyes, the four red demon eyes had vanished, replaced with her normal two violet eyes. "It was naturally overkill," Raven replied, allowing the last traces of her aura to fade away. "It was originally planned to rip Robin's soul apart. I'm surprised it only launched Emerald into the next room."

Gi chuckled. "What did you expect to happen, Emerald to be turned good through pure power?"

"I expected Emerald to be disintegrated, never to reform, along with anyone who ever interacted with him," Raven responded calmly, the last traces of energy around her vanishing.

Gi gulped. "Right. Robin, try not to annoy her any more." Gi scurried away, helping Nightwing dig through the unconscious Turmoils for supplies.

Robin turned towards Raven awkwardly, trying not to look her in the eye. "Um, thanks for not disintegrating me," Robin muttered, obviously still on edge, expecting some type of magic blast. "I didn't exactly give you a reason not to."

Raven began to walk over to him, her aura completely gone. "That was the point."

Robin stared at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Raven was now about six feet away. "Simple. You knew there was no reason you could give for drugging me. Any half-baked excuse you could have concocted would probably infuriate me further."

Robin stood-stock still for a moment, then unfroze and began to nod like his response was all part of a carefully thought-out plan. "Oh, yeah. That's what I meant. What you just said."

Raven stopped about one foot away from Robin. "Besides," Raven added, looking Robin in the eye, "I promised myself I would do something. An action which wouldn't be very enjoyable if you were a corpse."

Robin gulped. "Um, what would that be?"

Raven smiled. "This."

Raven's knee flew up, slamming directly into Robin's crotch. Robin's face went blank for a moment. Then he let out a squeak a few octaves higher than he should normally be able to reach. Robin's knees buckled, and he collapsed, curled up in a ball and groaning.

Raven knelt next to him. "If you ever try anything like that again," she hissed, "I will rip your soul apart without hesitation."

"Got it," Robin managed, struggling to stand up again. He made a mental note to add some type of armor or padding to his legs. Bright green tights didn't provide much protection. He would need some armor next time he angered Raven.

Gi stood up from the mound of Turmoils and catwalks, holding up a battered utility belt triumphantly. "Hey guys, I found a-"

Gi abruptly stopped talking as a sudden THUNK echoed around the room. A trickle of blood ran down Gi's forehead, leaking out from behind the silver tip of a dagger, poking out from a few inches below his hairline. Gi shuddered for a moment, the utility belt still clutched in his hand. Then he fell forward awkwardly, crashing down on the pile of Turmoils in front of him. The handle of the silver dagger protruded from the back of his head, the grip now stained with blood. Robin's hand flew to his chest as he shouted in pain. Robin fell back to his knees, clutching his chest as if he could hold back the agony.

Raven and the remaining Guardians immediately turned towards the hole in the wall, through which Emerald had crashed through only moments before. Emerald stood atop of the pile of computer parts, his aura so strong the metal around him was beginning to melt. His arm was still outstretched from throwing the dagger.

"Did you think I was LYING?" Emerald roared, his face a mask of fury. "I'm the GOD of this world! Cheap tricks can't stop me! Least of all the magic of an outsider!"

Emerald vanished in a cloud of smoke, reappearing seconds later behind Gi's corpse. He drew his knife from Gi's skull, as if Gi was only a sheath for his weapon. Nightwing and Grayson dove toward Emerald, slashing their staffs like blades. Emerald swiftly cracked his whip, leaving a long, deep cut along Nightwing's chest, then kicking him in the gut with enough force to cause Nightwing to tumble down the massive pile of catwalks. With his other hand, Emerald quickly threw his bloody dagger at the approaching Grayson. Grayson's training as an acrobat allowed him to dodge the dagger with a quick roll, but wound up in a crouching at Emerald's feet. Emerald immediately swung his whip down in a deadly arc. Grayson shielded his face to protect himself. At the last second, Emerald pulled back his whip, instead kicking Grayson like an athlete would punt a football. Grayson flew backward, tumbling down the pile and rolling to a stop next to Nightwing. Both of them were now coughing up blood.

Classic glanced at Raven. "Tell me you have enough magic to send him through the wall again."

Raven glanced down at her hands, but only a few pathetic sparks of magic sputtered out of her fingertips. "Nothing," Raven groaned, giving up her efforts of summoning any amount of sorcery. "Clearing the room spent all of my remaining magic. Robin's mind managed to cut off the rest of my magic supply. I've run dry."

A crocodile grin spread across Emerald's face. "Aw, no more magic?" Emerald chuckled, sliding down the mound of Turmoils toward the two injured Guardians. "Such a shame. I was thinking about keeping you as a pet after this was over, maybe teach you a few tricks. No matter. How about you try some of MY magic?"

Emerald leapt into the air, smashing down between Nightwing and Grayson. A blast of green energy filled the room, sending the two Guardians flying in opposite directions and causing the entire room to be obscured by the wave of green. By the time the room was visible again, Nightwing and Grayson were on opposite sides of the room, and Emerald was nowhere to be seen.

Classic immediately whipped out his staff and began searching the room carefully, not leaving any area overlooked. "You two get out of here," Classic ordered, gesturing towards the locked door. "Find Pride, or whoever is running this show. I'll stall Emerald."

Raven nodded, helping Robin get to his feet. Robin shook his head to clear his thoughts, then grabbed Raven's hand and made a beeline for the door. The control panel next to the door appeared relatively simple, but, to Robin's dismay, the command to open the door was much more complicated. After Robin punched in several random passwords, the control panel hissed like an angry cat and retracted all of its buttons. Robin swore under his breath. "Raven, do you have enough magic to-"

"Step back," Raven ordered. Turning around, Robin noticed Raven clutched a rusting handgun in her hands, obviously looted from one of the nearby Turmoils. Robin immediately stepped aside, and Raven fired three shots into the control panel. The panel sparked wildly for a minute, than the door groaned open, the locks disengaging.

The door swung open, revealing a grinning Emerald, his whip raised above his head. Robin hit the ground instinctively, and Emerald's whip cracked only a few inches above his head, ripping a few hairs from Robin's head. Raven adjusted her aim and fired another three shots, point blank, into Emerald's chest. Emerald stumbled backwards, but he seemed to have the wind knocked out of him, rather than dying.

Emerald looked up, his eyes glowing acid green. "It's a shame you're so pretty, sorceress," he spat, whipping out his blood-encrusted knife. "I might actually feel bad about killing you."

Faster than Raven could blink, the Emerald threw his dagger directly at her forehead. An inch away from meeting its mark, the dagger was struck by a spinning bird-a-rang, sending both weapons spinning into the piles of Turmoils. Classic vaulted over Robin, kicking Emerald square in the face. Both of them tumbled down the stairs, exchanging punches as they rolled.

"I said GO!" Classic roared. "I'll hold him off!"

Robin leapt to his feet, grabbed Raven's hand, and took off up the stairs. "Don't let yourself get killed!" Robin shouted as they disappeared up the spiral staircase.

Emerald and Classic tumbled down another floor's worth of stairs before they separated, with Classic retaining the high ground. Emerald got to his feet, panting. Obviously the fight had taken some energy out of him.

"The boss doesn't want your hide, Classic," Emerald growled. "Let me by, and we might just let you live."

Classic drew a bird-a-rang. "That's not happening."

"I am a god, you idiot," Emerald snarled. "What secret weapon do you have?"

"Secret weapon? Simple," Classic replied calmly. "I have a dead teammate. Two others are mortally wounded. My only goal is holding you at bay, and I have nothing to lose."

Classic grinned, for the first time in what felt like ages. "Your move."

* * *

Robin didn't have a direction in mind besides up. So when the staircase abruptly ended halfway to the top of the tower, Robin decided to improvise. Both Robin and Raven turned to the nearest corridor and dashed down it, looking for any kind of staircase or any other way up. Judging by the increasing number of footsteps behind them, a sizable mob was beginning to chase after them. Even more motivation to continue running.

At the end of a hallway branching off of his current path, Robin spotted an elevator. He immediately changed course, dragging Raven behind him. In front of the elevator doors stood a Turmoil with a welding torch, apparently on guard duty. Not much of a guard, though. Raven fired a single bullet over his head, and the boy jumped like a startled rabbit, dropped his welding torch, and ran as if his life depended on it.

Upon reaching the elevator, Robin instinctively snatched the fallen welding torch and stuffed it into his Turmoil jacket's pocket. The more gear he had, the better. Robin quickly pressed the UP button on the elevator. Either nothing happened, or it didn't happen fast enough. Tearing down a paper sign haphazardly taped onto the front of the elevator, Robin jammed the edge of his staff between the two elevator doors, trying to pry them open.

Raven looked at the Boy Wonder skeptically. "Robin? I don't think that's-"

"I can get it open," Robin hissed, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as he slowly began forcing the doors out of position. There was a groan of metal, but, to Robin's dismay, the sound came from the bending of his staff, which now looked more like a boomerang.

Raven glanced backwards, quickly checking the hallway to see if any Turmoils had caught up to them. "Robin, that's not going to-"

"I've got this," Robin muttered, tossing his ruined staff aside and beginning to push at the small gap between the doors with his hands. The hallway began to echo with the sound of a large group approaching, heading in their direction.

Raven glared at the struggling Robin. "Just listen for a second, Robin! The elevator isn't-"

Robin yanked at the metal with all his strength, opening a wide enough gap for them to slip inside. Robin grabbed Raven's hand and pulled her inside the elevator, despite her protests. As soon as the two slipped inside, Robin drew the welding torch from his pocket and began fusing the door shut again, melting the doors together enough to make them appear undamaged, as long as their pursuers didn't look closely.

"Robin," Raven snarled, "did you even-"

"Quiet!" Robin hissed. "They're coming past the door."

Sure enough, the footsteps of the Turmoils had grown loud enough that it was clear the group was just outside. If any of the boys noticed Robin's clumsy repair job of the door, they gave no sign. Instead, the group just kept running, the sound of their footsteps fading until the only sound was the breathing of the elevator's occupants.

Robin turned to Raven and gave her a tired grin. "I told you I could do it."

To Robin's surprise, Raven wore a look of absolute fury. "Robin." Raven's voice wavered, barely concealing her anger. "Next time I tell you not to do something, DON'T DO IT."

Robin looked at her, confused. "What do you mean? I managed to get the door open. Now we just need to ride it up to the top floor."

Robin turned to the floor-to-ceiling control panel next to the elevator's doors. There were hundreds of buttons, each labeled with either a number between one and 299, or a hand written note with titles like "Generators" and "Control Rod Center". Robin located the note labeled "Penthouse" and gently pressed it.

Nothing happened.

After a moment, Robin pressed the button again, except harder. Then again and again. Robin continued pressing it, as if the more he tried, the better chance he would have of succeeding. Then, slowly, Robin turned to face the angry Raven. "Um, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, it wasn't important," Raven replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You just didn't bother to read the sign clearly labeled OUT OF ORDER. If only someone had tried to tell you while you were engaging in your testosterone-fueled competition against a door."

Robin froze, his brain beginning to recognize the massive mistake he had made. "Out of order?"

Raven shrugged. "Oh, we can probably force our way out. It's not like someone FUSED THE DOORS SHUT!"

Robin slowly turned to face the doors. Examining his handiwork, it was clear his improvised job of covering their tracks had done more than he intended. The two doors had melted together, forming a solid wall of steel keeping them in the elevator.

"Oh," Robin managed. "I thought we could… I didn't know it wasn't… oh, God."

Robin sank down to the elevator floor, running his hand along the door's sealed seam as he went. In his mind, he replayed events leading up to the elevator. He had shoved a sign out of the way. Now, in retrospect, the sign must have been the one Raven noticed. None of the elevators buttons had been working when he had tried to open the doors. That should have tipped him off. Running through the steps in his mind, dozens of facts should have given him a clue about the unusable elevator. He hadn't noticed any of them. That wasn't like him. He was the Boy Wonder, trained to notice anything and everything, and to be a detective even when the stakes were high. Stubbornly forcing an elevator door open went against all of his training. Why had he done it?

The rational side of himself answered. _Gi represented discipline and development. His death is most likely hampering your ability to think straight and to use your surroundings effectively._

That was the reasonable answer. It was the probable answer. But a small voice whispered in his head. _Your only thought was to get Raven to safety._

Robin put his head between his knees. "Shut up," he muttered.

"What did you say?" Raven hissed, thinking the statement was directed at her.

"Never mind," Robin sighed. "I was just… talking to myself."

Glancing around the elevator, Robin took a note on how cramped the area was. The elevator's design wasn't meant for comfort, with four plain steel walls and a floor about seven feet across. Normally it wouldn't be too bad of a space, but apparently the Turmoils had decided to use the broken elevators as a sort of storage closet. The walls were only barely visible behind mounds of junk and computer parts, with little room for any occupants. Needless to say, there were only a couple of feet to actually stand in. At best, the two could only be a foot or two away from each other at all times. Not exactly a comfortable space. And now they were trapped there, thanks to Robin.

Robin sighed. "Raven, I'm… I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Raven blinked, her anger beginning to fade. She had half-expected Robin to stubbornly defend his boneheaded actions. She didn't expect an apology. In fact, she couldn't remember if Robin had actually ever made an apology. "We'll be able to get out of here," Raven commented. "It'll just take a while."

Robin shook his head. "Not just for getting us stuck in here. I'm sorry for drugging you. I'm sorry for forcing you to use your powers when it's clear they hurt to use in this world. I'm… I'm sorry for dragging you in here in the first place."

Raven shook her head. "Robin, without me here you would have died a hundred times over."

"I know, I know," Robin conceded. "It's just…"

Robin sighed, obviously trying to work up the nerve to tell her something. "You asked earlier why Mourning's death affected me more than Wrath's."

Raven nodded, but kept silent.

Robin took a deep breath. "Well, I'm an orphan." Glancing up at Raven's neutral expression, Robin chuckled softly. "Of course it doesn't surprise you. You probably figured it out years ago. Anyway, when Mourning died, my mind felt like it was exploding, like I had been hit by a bullet. The feeling only lasted a few seconds, though."

Raven listened silently. If Robin wanted input, he'd ask for it. Right now, though, Raven sensed that he just wanted to get something off his chest.

Robin stared down at the floor, as if events were replaying there. "After the pain subsided, memories started bubbling to the surface. I saw my parents die over and over. I watched them fall, heard them hit the ground. And I felt nothing. No remorse, no pain, no sympathy. It was like, I don't know, watching a movie. I knew what was happening. I knew I was watching my parent's final moments. But it was almost like I didn't care. I felt nothing. I never want to experience anything like that again."

Robin didn't look up from the floor. Raven knelt beside him. "Robin, you don't have to keep going," Raven said, her voice soft. "You can stop there."

Robin shook his head slightly. He needed to finish. "That's…that's why I drugged you. If you died helping me, I… I didn't want to feel nothing. I wanted to…wanted to…"

Robin trailed off, either unable or unwilling to finish his confession. He glanced up at Raven. A look of utter relief washed across his face, as if the weight of the world had just been taken off of his shoulders. "Raven, if anything happens to you," Robin whispered. "I just want to tell you that I-"

Robin was suddenly cut off by the screech of metal against metal. A spinning red blade the size of a CD tore through the ceiling, buzzing as it began sawing through the steel roof. After a moment, the blade had cut a three-foot-wide circle in the ceiling. Robin instinctively pulled Raven towards the door just as the steel disk tumbled into the elevator with a metallic clang. Robin leaned over to see who managed to free them from the elevator. Standing on top of the elevator were the last two people Robin wanted to see right now: Red, who grinned mischievously down at the two Titans, and Red-X, who clutched a scarlet, X-shaped blade. Robin and Raven's saviors also happened to be the only ones in Robin's mind who had openly flirted with Raven.

"Great," Robin muttered. "Now there are two of them."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans) Sorry for the long update time. I hope you enjoy the chapter!


	10. Rising

Of all the possible occupants in Robin's mind, Robin and Raven just _had_ to be saved by the two emotions that actively flirted with Raven. Robin shook his head in disbelief. He hadn't expected to see Red-X again after the thief stole a quick kiss from Raven and disappeared into the night. Robin wasn't exactly pleased that he had reappeared. Red shouldn't even be there. Robin had ordered him to stay at the manor to guard both Raven and Wrath. Raven had shown up only an hour or two after that though, so Robin wasn't very surprised that Red had slacked off on guard duty. Robin's annoyance may have been lessened if Red was in his shorter, less annoying form, but judging from the black cape and devilish expression, even that small hope was extinguished.

Red grinned at the two Titans as he began to lower a rope through the new hole in the elevator ceiling. "Next time you want a date, Raven," Red laughed, "I'll have an easier time picking you up somewhere besides an elevator."

Raven stood up, brushing the dust off of her cloak. "Red, you managed to fulfill a simple task for me, and I'm grateful for that," Raven replied, beginning to climb up the supplied rope out of the broken elevator. "Don't blow it now by making stupid comments."

Red-X chuckled behind his mask. "I don't know about that. Stupid comments are his specialty."

Red glared at Red-X. "Hey, I only got you because the lady asked me to. Don't think I've forgotten about the debt you owe me."

Red-X shrugged indifferently. "Okay, fine. Stupid comments are _one_ of your specialties."

Red nodded, satisfied. "Much better."

After Raven managed to climb out of the elevator, Robin grabbed the rope and started working his way up into the elevator shaft. "Wait a second," Robin grumbled. "Did you say Raven asked you two to come here?"

"Actually, I only asked for Red-X," Raven corrected, glaring daggers at Red. "Red apparently wants to come along."

Red looked at her with a hurt expression. "That wasn't very nice, Raven," he pouted. "I went all the way across the city to find him. Besides, I thought we were a team. We're like the three musketeers, plus Red-X."

"Am I the only one with any trace of sanity left?" Robin grumbled, hauling himself out of the elevator.

"Well, kid, seeing how you trapped yourself in a malfunctioning elevator, I'd say we're on pretty even ground," Red-X pointed out, twirling a red blade between his fingers.

Robin glared at Red-X. "You're not exactly stable yourself, X."

"If you two are done bickering," Raven interrupted, obviously annoyed by the addition of two more Robins, "I want to know how Red-X managed to find us."

Red-X shrugged. "Actually, I didn't. Red and I were wandering around the city looking for you guys when we both received a, what do you call it, a thought transmission. When the Boy Wonder calls upon certain emotions or experiences, the appropriate representative is called upon. Basically we just needed to follow the thought wave until we found you two in the elevator."

Red grinned wickedly at Robin. "What were you two doing in there anyway? Was the birdboy trying to make a move on Raven?"

Robin looked away, blushing. "Of course not. We were just talking."

Red-X grinned. "Right. Throw two teenagers with raging hormones into a cramped, private area. What's their first instinct? To have a civilized conversation, of course."

Robin glared at both versions of himself. "Shut up. If I had any of my gadgets right now-"

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me," Red interrupted, swinging a scarlet backpack out from behind his cape. "Catch."

Red tossed the backpack toward Robin, who caught it instinctively. Unzipping the main pocket, Robin found it stuffed with random gadgets and gizmos, a spare staff, a utility belt, and even a miniature can of hair gel. Relieved, Robin snatched the utility belt from the backpack and clicked it around his waist, and then began filling it with gadgets. "Thanks," Robin said, grinning like a kid on Christmas. "Where did you get-"

Robin froze, an object in the backpack catching his eye. Slowly he reached into the backpack, drawing the weapon carefully, trying not to get vaporized. "Where did you get this?" Robin demanded, holding up the thermal blaster he had found in the backpack.

Red shrugged. "Same place as the rest of the gear."

Robin continued to dig through the backpack, the look of concern on his face increasing as he discovered more and more weaponry: Control Freak's staff, Brother Blood's power amplifier, even Speedy's bow and quiver. The strange thing about the weapons was that they all seemed faded, with saturated colors and blurry edges. It looked like they were made of fog, or clippings from really old photographs.

Raven glared at Red, who seemed unbothered by the growing pile of lethal weaponry. "I sent you to get Red-X, not to go on a shopping spree for murder weapons," Raven said angrily.

"Hey, I was trying to be helpful. Robin has unhealthy obsession with gadgets. I brought some so he wouldn't go through withdrawal," Red protested. "Besides, I grabbed most of that stuff before I left the manor. I don't know why you're so angry about this. I got you guys more gear."

Robin separated his nonlethal gear from the lethal weapons, and then tossed the rejected weapons into the elevator, where they disappeared into the mounds of trash. "We don't use murder weapons."

"Raven's holding a gun," Red-X pointed out casually.

"My powers have been drained," Raven countered, glancing down at the handgun she clutched. "I haven't actually killed anyone with this."

Red-X laughed in disbelief. "Wait a second. You two are in a world where death is temporary for almost everyone, and you're still sticking to that stupid principle of no killing?"

Robin scowled. "We don't kill, X. If you have a problem with that, you have the right to leave."

"Okay, let me tell you something, kid," Red-X snapped. "First of all, you hang out with Scarlet over here. Unless I'm wrong, I recall that he used to hold the all-time killing record. Second, you now owe me two favors. If you're dead, I can't redeem those. Third, if you die, I'm not looking forward to being wiped from existence. I don't like any of you, but it beats being vaporized. I'm going to see this mission through."

"Glad to know you're so benevolent," Robin grumbled.

"Anyway," Raven interrupted, "the bigger question is how Red managed to get those weapons. None of them had any special significance to Robin, with the possible exception of the thermal blaster, so there really isn't a reason they would naturally be in his mind." Raven turned to Red. "You said you picked them up at the manor. How?"

Red grinned mischievously. "Let's just say birdboy's memories are a bit more malleable than you think."

Robin froze, staring down at his new utility belt. "You pulled these items directly out of my memories?"

Red-X sheathed the knife he had been spinning. "Don't be so surprised. We've been looting your memories for years. All you need to do it pop into one of the memories, find what you want, and take it from the memory. If it was more of a challenge, it might qualify as theft, but it's more like a store where all the merchandise is free."

Red sighed, staring wistfully down at the mound of trash his weapons had disappeared into. "All the good stuff was looted long ago. Even the stuff you just ditched was worth a small fortune. That was part of my personal collection."

As shocked as Robin was that they were stealing from his memories, Raven looked even more troubled. "You can take items from his memories?"

Red grinned. "Free food, weapons, televisions, and even vehicles. Everything's fair game."

"Everything…" Raven mused, looking even more unsettled. Then she looked up, her expression serious. "Can you take a person out of a memory?"

Red and Red-X froze, as if the subject Raven had brought up was taboo. Finally Red-X spoke, obviously reluctant to provide details. "Before the Great Fadeout, a couple emotions had tried," Red-X replied grimly. "None of them ended well. Whoever they tried bringing over, well, the subjects couldn't handle the crossover. Those who were brought over went insane."

Red nodded, looking more serious than Robin had ever seen him. "I had a friend who tried once. He had tried bringing over all four of the Titans. Seconds after they crossed over, they attacked him. He's not really going to recover anytime soon."

"The problem is that, when objects are crossed over, they're taken apart molecule by molecule, then reassembled so they can be compatible with Robin's mind," Red-X explained. "Well, when a person is crossed over, they're unable to cope with being ripped apart at their most basic level. Thus, when they're rebuilt, they can only recall what they were doing when they were pulled out. Then they repeat the action or process to the point of fanaticism. Since most of us tried to pull people out while they were locked in combat, well…"

"Pros and cons," Red summed up. "Cons; they go insane, might try to kill you, and they're some of the only ones capable of permanently harming one of us, since they're not actually part of the real world or Robin's mind. On the pro side, they can only last a few minutes. They can't handle their own power and molecular instability and literally burn out. So it kind of evens out."

Raven looked even more concerned than she had before the explanation, which Robin didn't assume was a good sign. "If they go insane and can permanently kill someone, it could be…" Raven mumbled, apparently calculating something in her head. "No, they burn out after a few minutes. There's no way anyone could have lasted this long."

"Why do you want to know, Raven?" Red chuckled. "I know that I'm irresistible, but you'll just have to settle for one of me."

"Trust me, one of you is one too many," Robin grumbled, pulling off his Turmoil disguise and tossing it into the elevator with the rest of the trash. No matter how stained and bloody his uniform was, he was secretly relieved to be able to display the colors again. Disguising himself as a Turmoil was not only degrading, but also felt fundamentally wrong. Appearing to be an enemy, even if he was only pretending to join their ranks, went against everything he stood for. After he had masqueraded as Red-X, and almost immediately after he had been abducted by Slade to serve as his apprentice, Robin had sworn to himself that he would always show which side of the law he belonged on, and to never even question his alignment. After meeting the less-than-righteous residents of his own mind, Robin was even more restless if he wasn't wearing his red, yellow, and green uniform. At the very least, it gave him a sense of purpose. Speaking of which, Robin remembered that the group was on a timer.

"How much more time before the tower's charge reaches 100%?" Robin demanded, snatching his grappling hook out of his utility belt.

Red-X shrugged. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but I have no idea what you're talking about. I only managed to get here a few minutes ago."

Raven glanced around the elevator shaft curiously. "How did you manage to get in here, anyway?"

For the first time, Robin surveyed the elevator shaft. The sheets of steel that made up the walls stretched uninterrupted from the elevator upwards until they disappeared into the darkness. There weren't any visible air vents or service doors, so Robin wondered how the elevator shaft had any oxygen, much less how Red and Red-X managed to work their way inside.

Red-X laughed. "In case you're forgetting, Robin's mind granted me all the powers of the real Red-X. Teleporting isn't exactly out of the question."

"Actually," Raven snapped, "I was asking Red. Don't think I've forgotten about your abilities, X. That's the only reason I asked you to come."

Red-X shook his head ruefully. "I'm only here because you promised some kind of payment. Unless I'm wrong, I'm not seeing a big pile of cash waiting for me."

"If we succeed, you can keep the vehicle I drove here," Raven conceded. "If we fail, you're going to have bigger problems."

Red waved his hand to get their attention. "Hey, uh, does the dashing action hero here get a prize? Does he get the car, or the girl, or…?"

Raven gave Red a look of loathing. "You shouldn't even be here, Red. No rewards. Besides, you still haven't answered my question. How did you manage to get in here?"

Red grinned, pulling back his cape to reveal a handmade metal belt, with tubes of Xenothium ore hastily wired into a massive red button on the buckle. "Figured out how to build one of these a while ago," Red explained, obviously proud of himself. "After a couple of misfires and a minor nuclear explosion, I was able to build this baby. Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself."

Robin examined the belt skeptically. "How do you steer? There's no targeting mechanism in this."

Red's shoulders sagged slightly as he adjusted his jury-rigged utility belt. "That's the problem. I can't. It's like throwing a dart while blindfolded. You can only hope that it ends up where you want it to, and pray that you don't hit anyone. Trust me, it isn't pretty when you do."

"Anyway, enough about gadgets," Robin declared, staring up into the gloom of the elevator shaft. "We need to get to the top floor and stop Pride."

Red-X shrugged. "Whatever you say, kid. I can just phase up the walls until I get there."

Robin nodded, drawing his grappling hook. "Okay, you can do that. Red and I can use our grappling hooks, but that still leaves Raven."

"I can carry her," Red offered, grinning at Raven. "I'll take the burden for the good of the team."

"Yeah," Raven muttered, "maybe when Hell freezes over."

"That's not a no," Red pointed out hopefully.

Red-X glanced at his utility belt. "I'd offer to teleport you up there, but for this amount of distance, even if it was just me, I'll have to make several secondary teleports. That would risk dropping you and losing my reward."

Red snapped his fingers like he had just thought of a brilliant idea. "I've got it!"

Red whipped out his grappling hook and snatched Robin's out of his hand. He then dove into the elevator and began rummaging around in the trash piles.

Robin turned to Raven, who looked just as annoyed with Red as he was. "Why did you want Red-X in the first place?"

Raven sighed. "I had planned to sneak into the Tower, take out whoever ran this place, and get out quickly. Red-X's abilities would have made that easier. Unfortunately, your half-baked stealth plan with the Guardians was busted, and any attempt at stealth was lost. It was too late to find Red and stop him from getting X, so now they're just here for no real reason. It's better than having no backup, though."

"Thanks," Red-X grumbled as he prepared his teleportation equipment. "That makes me feel all sunny inside."

A few minutes later, Red climbed out of the elevator, lugging a wooden plank behind him. Hooking the handles of the grappling hooks to either side of the plank, Red fired the cables, which disappeared into the darkness above. Tightening the wire, Red stepped back from the contraption he had created. "Presenting for the first time anywhere," Red announced, gesturing towards the swinging plank, which hovered a few inches off of the ground, "Red's finest, and hopefully not last, invention, the world's most dangerous porch swing! Can go straight up at two speeds: breakneck fast or agonizingly slow. Your choice, they both have a chance of killing you."

Robin walked past Red and sat down on the right side of the plank, which tilted wildly under him. "As long as it can get all three of us up," Robin muttered, "I'm fine with it."

Raven sat down next to Robin, causing the plank to tilt even more wildly. "Let's just get this over with."

Red quickly adjusted the settings on the grappling hooks, then squeezed between Raven and Robin. "Okay, I'm starting to regret building this," Red muttered. "Straight up, here we go."

Squeezing the triggers of the grappling hooks, the board shuddered, than began to rise agonizingly slowly. Red-X watched them ascend for a moment, than vanished, probably scaling the elevator shaft at a much faster rate.

Red grinned at Raven, who was sandwiched next to him on the short plank. "Anybody ever tell you you're cuter up close?"

"It's not wise to irritate a girl who is holding a handgun," Raven growled.

"I don't know about that," Red chuckled. "I love girls who can kick my butt."

Red fell silent after that comment. Robin assumed he was going to speak up again a few minutes later, probably to try flirting with Raven again. To Robin's surprise, however, Red stayed silent for most of the ride up the elevator shaft. This was pretty astounding, as it had already taken half of an hour to reach the halfway point in the elevator shaft.

Glancing at the other two riders on the makeshift elevator, Robin noticed Red massaging his chest, a pained expression on his face. "Red, are you feeling okay?" Robin asked, gesturing towards Red's chest.

Red glanced up at Robin, startled. He quickly pulled his hand away from his chest, as if he were caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Uh, yeah," Red mumbled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…some Mexican food isn't agreeing with me. That's all."

Red clammed up after that, glancing at Robin warily every few minutes, as if Robin was going to call him out for having heartburn. Robin didn't really care. Next to Red, Raven appeared to be meditating, maybe trying to restore some of her magic. Once again, Robin felt a pang of guilt. He'd dragged Raven into this nightmare, made her lose her powers, and left her with a handgun as a replacement. Great friend he was.

"Any luck with getting back your magic?" Robin asked, leaning past Red to see Raven. The board tilted wildly as he did, and Robin had to jerk backwards to keep himself from falling, smacking his head against the wall. He made a mental note to give himself a medical examination after this was over. He'd been injured more times these past few hours than he had been in the past few weeks outside his head.

Raven's eyes remained closed, staying in her trance. "Nothing yet," Raven murmured, her mouth barely opening. "Right now, I might be able to generate a spark or two at best. I'm going to need as much magic as possible when we get to the top floor."

Robin almost expected Red to interrupt them with some badly timed wisecracks, but Red remained silent, staring blankly at the opposite wall of the elevator shaft, as his thoughts were far away from where his body was.

A few minutes later, the lift passed a sparking LCD screen. Robin had no idea who was intended to see it in the inaccessible elevator shaft, or who even managed to put it up, but the message on the screen was much more troubling. 98% CHARGED.

Robin winced. "98% already? We only have a few minutes before Pride tries again."

Red frowned, snapping out of his self-induced trance. "Wait, you mentioned Pride before, but I didn't put two and two together until now. You're saying that Pride was the one who drove you mad?"

"I wouldn't exactly put it that way, but yeah," Robin confirmed. "As far as we know, Pride's hosting the boss, whoever he is. If we stop Pride, we stop the second suicide attempt."

Red grinned slightly. "Sweet. I've been looking for a reason to kick Pride's butt."

Robin noticed how tense Red had become. Every few moments, Red would twitch or shudder, as if he was trying not to fall asleep. Robin didn't think much of it. Red had way too many quirks, so twitching wasn't the most concerning habit. He was probably just exhausted from searching the city for Red-X, or maybe he was about to switch into his smaller form.

"Robin, do you remember when you were Slade's apprentice?" Red asked suddenly, turning to look directly at Robin. "And he was controlling you by manipulating your friends?"

Robin blinked, surprised by the question. Usually the Titans avoided asking Robin about his time as Slade's apprentice unless the question was vital, or if they wanted to make a cheap shot. They knew Robin didn't like to talk about the experience. Red probably didn't have such restrictions, though. "Yeah, I remember," Robin replied, slightly irritated by Red's rudeness. "Why do you want to know?"

Red ignored the question, his expression an unusual mixture a panic and curiosity. "What did it feel like?"

Robin shifted his position on the plank, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "When the nanoscopic probes were activated, it felt like my blood was boiling. It seemed like every nerve in my body had overloaded, nothing but pain registering. Imagine your body bursting into flames from the inside out."

"If you needed to know that, Red," Raven mumbled, still meditating, "you didn't need to ask Robin specifically. We both had the probes inside our bloodstreams."

Red shook his head, his expression serious. "No, before that. When Slade was controlling your actions, forcing you to attack your friends. What was that like?"

Robin looked down into his lap, fiddling with his utility belt absentmindedly. "Well… it's hard to describe. I knew I needed to attack without hesitation, and there was always underlying terror. If I didn't do enough damage, Slade would do the rest without hesitation. I had to attack my friends to keep them safe. Whatever I did, attack, defend, retreat, it all felt fundamentally wrong. If I failed at any of it, my friends would die."

Robin took a deep breath, trying to avoid looking at Red or Raven. "And there was also… there was also an insane adrenaline rush. I could attack without hesitation. I could fight without holding back. Every old feud, every petty argument seemed to rise to the surface, and I could take it out on all of them. When I didn't have to hold back… I felt unstoppable. And I hated every minute of it."

Red nodded, a drop of sweat trickling down his forehead. "But you couldn't hold back, or else it would all be for nothing."

Robin nodded grimly. "Like I said, I hated it." Robin looked up at Red. "Why do you want to know?"

Red sighed, looking away from both Raven and Robin. "I was trying to find out if you had the same-"

The board suddenly jerked, knocking Raven out of her meditation and almost throwing Robin down into the elevator shaft. Grabbing onto the grappling cable to steady himself, Robin realized that the lift had reached the top of the elevator shaft. The remains of an elevator door were embedded in the wall, sliced apart to form a large, X-shaped hole in the center. Peering through the hole, Robin could just barely see Red-X leaning against the hallway wall, spinning a red blade in his gloved hand. His mask hung from his belt loosely, the skull pattern unrecognizable in the darkness. Red-X glanced up at the group, still spinning the blade between his fingers.

"About time you three showed up," Red-X grumbled. "I was about to check the bottom of the elevator shaft, see if your makeshift elevator had crashed and burned."

Raven stood up carefully on the groaning contraption, which threatened to give way any moment. "Patience is a virtue, X," she muttered. "Test mine anymore, and I'm pushing you down this elevator shaft."

Red-X shrugged. "Say what you want, I'm just tired of hanging out with a bunch of corpses."

Robin frowned, pulling out his staff. "Corpses? What corpses?"

Red-X chuckled. "Come and see for yourself, kid. It's a slaughterhouse in here."

Getting off the board and into the hallway was a challenge. Robin was able to launch himself from the lift and into the hallway, narrowly missing the razor-sharp remains of the doorway. The hallway was pitch-black. Robin wasn't sure if the lights had died, or if they had been turned off on purpose. Either way, it wasn't very reassuring. Raven and Red soon followed Robin through the doorway. Raven managed to make it through without any problems, but Red smashed his head against the doorframe on the way in. Once he made it through the doorway, he began rubbing his head gingerly, wincing as he touched it.

"Next time you cut a hole in a door, X," Red grumbled, trying to use a bird-a-rang to check his head for bruises, "try to make it big enough for someone to fit through."

Red-X sneered at Red, sheathing his knife. "Sorry, but the corpses were a little distracting."

"Okay, Red-X," Robin muttered, fumbling with his utility belt for a moment before pulling out a small flashlight. "A couple of corpses aren't exactly rare when we're in this kind of-"

Robin stopped speaking as soon as he clicked on the flashlight. The beam from the device was the only source of light in the room, but it still suitably displayed the carnage before them. The hallway was crammed with dead Robins. Many were slumped against the walls, bird-a-rangs half-buried in the center of each their foreheads. Others were sprawled across the floor of the hallway, their intermingled blood pooling on the tiles. Some were unrecognizable, with faces bashed in by a staff or fried by a sonic disk. Most, however, were all too well preserved, expressions of horror frozen on their faces as the small remainder of the blood still in their bodies leaked out of gaping wounds in their stomachs and chest. Robin guessed there were about thirty bodies in the hallway, but it wouldn't be surprising if there were more before the fight, Robins who were now blown up beyond recognition, or dumped down the elevator shaft. All of the Robins wore completely white uniforms, now dyed scarlet by their own blood.

The four remained silent for a moment. Then Red-X broke the silence. "Yeah, like I said," Red-X muttered, his voice echoing throughout the hallway, "a little distracting."

"If we get out of here alive," Raven grumbled, "Robin's going through another round of therapy. This mind is about as twisted as it can get."

Robin knelt next to one of the less gruesome corpses, examining the stained uniforms. "Who are these guys? They don't look like Turmoils."

Red-X scowled. "They're not. They're the Tower's watchmen. They're only here to protect the central nervous system from any intruders. All of them are, well, they WERE deaf, blind and mute, but they could kick almost anyone's ass. Maybe they had ESP or something, because they never lost a fight."

"Except this time," Raven commented, surveying the carnage with mild disgust. "Looks like Pride was able to get through them."

Robin stood up from the corpse, wiping some of the blood off of his gloves. "Okay, Pride's incredibly dangerous. We've covered that. At least we have both Red and Red-X to back us up, though." Robin glanced around the hallway, looking for his allies. "Wait a second, where's Red?"

Red-X pulled a small red penlight out of his belt and turned it on, sweeping it across the room along with Robin's flashlight. Finally they located Red. He was standing all the way at the end of the hallway, his back to the group. Before him was a large metal door, half-covered with the drying blood of the watchmen. Red ran the fingers of his left hand along the seam of the door, almost as if he was in a trance.

"Right behind this door," Red murmured, his back still to the group. "Only a few more steps, and I would have made it. I almost got him. I almost escaped it."

Robin stared at him, confused. "Red? Are you feeling okay? We're almost there, we don't have much time to lose."

If Red heard him, he gave no sign. "I almost thought I could be immune," Red muttered, shuddering slightly. "I didn't give in as easily as the others, that's all. Now it caught up with me." Red turned around slowly, his left hand dropping to his side. In his right hand he clutched his handgun, the barrel still coated with dried salsa. Red stared at the group, his expression fearful. "You three need to go. Now. Before it's too late."

Robin frowned. "What are you talking about? We're almost there. The four of us can stop Pride."

"The four of us," Red repeated. He chuckled sadly, clicking the safety off of his handgun. "I wanted the four of us to stop Pride. I wanted to help you. I wanted…wanted to stop Pride before it got to me."

Raven stepped forward, drawing her handgun. "Red, what are you doing? Cut it out, now."

Red laughed, a sound that echoed down the hallway. "The lady asks," he said bitterly, "I obey."

His hand shaking, Red lifted the barrel of the gun to his head. Robin immediately pulled out a bird-a-rang, and Raven aimed her handgun and Red's hand.

"Red, stop this now," Robin ordered. "Put the gun down."

Red shook his head, the gun sliding against the side of his head. "No, I need to do this. It'll buy you some time. Otherwise, I'm going to… I have to…"

"Red, we're not going anywhere," Raven said, pointing her handgun at Red's hand, as if she could shoot the gun out of his hand. "Whatever it is you're trying to do, stop it now. We're not going to-"

"For once, listen to me!" Red shouted. "You three need to go NOW! If this bullet doesn't kill me, I'll be forced to-"

Red suddenly shuddered violently, as if he had just stuck a fork into an electrical socket. Slowly, he pulled the gun away from his head. He examined the handgun for a second, a look of mild curiosity on his face. Then Red laughed. It was a dark laugh, the laugh of a maniac who had just come to grips with just how insane he was. As suddenly as the laughter had begun, it stopped. Red then lifted the gun again, but this time he was pointing the barrel directly at the Robin.

"Red?" Robin's mind went blank, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry about this," Red said, his tone much more neutral than it had ever been before, "But if any of you take one more step, I'm putting a bullet through your heads."

* * *

(Note: I do not own Teen Titans)


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